


From Broken Things

by dragonflysoul



Series: Light Fall [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, American Sign Language, Amnesia, Angst, Courage, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mute MacGyver, Muteness, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Torture, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Protective Team, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Seizures, Sharing a Bed, Team as Family, Trauma, protective bozer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflysoul/pseuds/dragonflysoul
Summary: Six weeks. Over six weeks of searching, of agonizing over what was happening to him. Their worst fears wouldn’t come close to the truth; and even once finally home, MacGyver would never be the same. None of them would. This is their journey to a new normal. This is Mac’s journey back home.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Light Fall [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863712
Comments: 247
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This takes place immediately after the season two finale and takes on a world of its own.
> 
> A/N2: I'm not a doctor, or any kind of therapist. Nor do I play one on tv.
> 
> A/N3: I know nothing of the true McCall, Idaho.
> 
> A/N4: Chapter lyrics are from "Not Alone" by Red.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own MacGyver or any of the characters from the show.

**Prologue**

Her heart raced, but not because she ran. She ran through door after door and even into people, but she barely faltered. Finally, hurrying down the stairs, she passed where Jack had put a crack in the War Room glass window via his fist, and burst into the room. Three sets of bloodshot, weary eyes turned to her, but after over six weeks it was over. It was finally over. "I found him," she gasped out, tears bright in her eyes. "I found him."

**CHAPTER ONE**

" _And when you're finally in my arms_

_Look up and see love has a face."_

"A John Doe matching Mac's description down to his old scars and the birthmark under his jaw was just admitted to a hospital in McCall, Idaho."

"Idaho?" Bozer exclaimed, looking anxiously between everyone. "What's he doing in Idaho?"

"Condition?" Jack's face was drawn tight as he immediately started for the door.

"It–" Riley looked down at her tablet, "it just says that he was unresponsive, but..." She looked back up at him.

"He's alive."

A tear slid down her face as she nodded. "Yeah."

"Matty?" Jack turned back to their boss, one foot already out of the War Room.

"Jet is fueled and ready. I'll notify the local law enforcement and make sure they understand that he's to be protected."

He gave her a curt nod before he was gone; Bozer and Riley on his heels.

"Riley," Matty called after, "I need you to stay."

"What? No, Matty I–"

"I know." Matty gave her a sympathetic look. She felt the same. "But I need you here doing what you do best. The boys are going to be focused on bringing Mac home. I need you to stay focused on finding who's responsible for taking him from us in the first place."

~*~M~*~

The entire flight Jack couldn't stop fidgeting and pacing. Bozer wasn't much better.

" _Why's he unresponsive? How bad is he hurt? How'd he get to the hospital? Why didn't he call us? What the_ _ **hell**_ _is he doing in Idaho?"_ were just a few of the questions Bozer posed en route. None of which Jack had an answer for.

Over six weeks had passed since they found his jeep run off the road; blood splattered on the seat and air bag. After nearly four weeks of chasing weak leads, hope had started to run dry. With no ransom demanded and no direction to take, with tears in her eyes and a break in her voice, Matty had suggested they all prepare themselves for the worst.

They couldn't, they wouldn't, and they never stopped looking. Oversight went dark in an attempt to access Intel from channels that weren't for the faint of heart. Jack would have followed, but he wanted to be close, wanted to be there when a clue surfaced, wanted to be close in case MacGyver tried to reach him. He had gone stir crazy and had been reprimanded for using 'excessive force' on more than one occasion while bringing in suspects, but he was never so glad as he was now for his decision to stay.

They barreled through the hospital doors exactly two hours after learning of MacGyver's admittance. Before Jack could even open his mouth, a nurse looked up at him and gestured for them to follow her.

"Your boss described you," she explained as she quickly led them down the hall. She looked relieved to see them. "He's been combative since he woke up. We don't want to sedate him again due to the drugs still in his system, but it's imperative that he rests."

"Drugs?" Bozer questioned as Jack clenched his fists at the information.

"I'll send Doctor Rogers in to speak to you, but if you could calm him down and get him back to bed in the meantime..."

Jack clenched his fists again and took a deep breath as they passed an officer standing guard outside of MacGyver's room.

"Considering what he's been through," the nurse admitted softly, "we didn't want to restrain him."

Jack looked at her, both wanting to know more, and not, before he peered into the half lit room. Medical equipment was strewn about and a nurse stood calmly just inside the door. Half of Jack was screaming at him to run in and scoop MacGyver up in his arms, the other half was warning him to take it slow. If MacGyver was disoriented or having some sort of flashback, he could be dangerous. "Stay here, Boze."

The younger man opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it and nodded.

"Mac?" Jack called softly, stepping into the room. His heart was beating so loudly, for a moment, that was all he could hear. This was it, this was what six long, horrifying weeks had led them to. "I gotta say, bud, this latest disappearing act of yours likely knocked a good ten years off of my life." He said it as casually as he could manage as he scanned the darkened room, his chest about to burst with both hope _and_ fear. Hope that it was over. Fear that it wasn't.

He had been missing for over _six_ weeks. Every uncertain, Mac-less moment had been hell; but Jack knew it was nothing compared to what MacGyver might have been going through; which made every moment all the more impossible.

Finally, walking around the hospital bed, Jack's breath caught in his throat. The reason for his sleepless nights and nightmare days was huddled in the darkest corner of the room, gripping an IV pole across his lap with both hands. For possibly the first time ever, Jack couldn't find his voice. All he could manage was a shaky breath, and then another as his eyes welled with tears. He was looking at an answered prayer, and the image was like a shock to the heart. It was really him. After all this time, MacGyver was alive.

Visibly trembling, he was covered in bruises and bandages. He was paler, thinner and somehow smaller looking than Jack could ever remember him being; but he was his boy.

"H-" The relief continued to choke him up and threaten to bring him to his knees. "Hey, bud," he finally managed, tears blurring his vision. Moving forward slowly, cautiously–almost afraid he'd startle him back out of existence, he crouched before him. It took everything Jack had not to pull him into his arms right then. Mac looked...he looked beat to hell and terrified; terrified, but determined. Definitely his boy. It both broke Jack's heart and rallied it at the same time. "You sure are a sight for sore eyes, brother."

But MacGyver was still gripping the IV pole, still holding a defensive posture.

"Mac?" Jack searched his eyes for clues on how to proceed; they always told him everything he needed to know. "Hey, hoss, how about you give me that, huh?" He gestured at the IV pole MacGyver looked more than ready to use as a weapon. "You're safe now, all right. I'm here. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you." Never again.

MacGyver didn't move. His red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes were watching him, though, studying him as if...

"Hey, don't tell me you've already forgotten who I am," Jack teased lightly, even as he felt a part of himself unravel a bit inside. "Come on, you know me, man," he said with an encouraging smile and tear-filled eyes. "It's your boy. It's your boy Jack."

That seemed to garner some recognition. Troubled blue eyes widening slightly, MacGyver looked at him with a sliver of hope now instead of just suspicion. "That's it, brother. It's your favorite helicopter-parent."

MacGyver's posture relaxed minutely and he didn't protest when Jack moved closer. But his eyes remained fixed on him, and his bruised knuckles remained gripping the IV pole; like he still wasn't certain he could be trusted. It shook Jack more than he could say.

"It's all right there, chief. I'm just gonna move this outta the way." Jack gently tugged on the IV pole, relieved when MacGyver released it, albeit hesitantly. It was then he noticed the crooked fingers on his partner's right hand. "Jesus, kid," he exclaimed softly, setting the IV pole down behind him. "What'd those bastards do to you?"

But wordlessly, MacGyver continued to study him. Jack had seen that look countless times in the past; when Mac was trying to work out a problem...trying to understand something he didn't.

"I gotta say, you're breakin' my heart here with that look, kid."

Brow pinched, frown deep, MacGyver tentatively reached an unsteady hand– the one with the misshapen fingers, towards him. Jack instinctively reached back, palms up. But Mac's thin fingers slid over his palm and across the black leather cuff he wore around his wrist. They lingered there. "I'm here, bud. I got you." Jack was finding it hard to speak around the ever growing ache in his heart. "I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you, all right? Never again."

MacGyver's face scrunched up as Jack spoke, as if he were struggling with his own emotions; as if he wanted to believe him, but was afraid to.

"We're going home, brother," Jack promised thickly, tears on the verge of falling. "We're going home."

MacGyver's breath caught once, twice...before he tipped right into his Overwatch's arms and buried his face in his chest.

Jack immediately wrapped himself around him; protecting, comforting."I got you." Holding him tight, he carded his fingers through the blond hair as warm tears rained down his face. "Jack's got you now."

~*~M~*~

Trauma.

They told them it was likely trauma that gave MacGyver what appeared to be amnesia.

"Okay, but he remembers Jack," Bozer intoned, watching his friend sleep tucked up against Jack's side. He'd never forget the look he gave him when he walked in as Jack was helping him onto the bed. It was a look a stranger would have given him. They hadn't been strangers since Bozer had punched Donny for bullying him in the fifth grade.

"I'm not so sure," Jack admitted quietly. "It wasn't until I said my name that I got a reaction out of him resembling anything close to recognition."

"So... he remembers your name, but not you?"

Jack shrugged, frowning. "I don't know, man."

"It could be that he doesn't recall who Jack is, exactly," the doctor offered, "but has retained strong emotions regarding you or your name."

"Well, Jack, you're his Overwatch," Bozer considered, "so with you here, it means–"

"He's safe." Jack looked down at where MacGyver had plastered himself against his side, then promptly passed out with his arm over his waist.

"I'd say that's a pretty strong emotion," the doctor noted.

"Maybe when the drugs leave his system, he'll remember the rest," Bozer offered hopefully, but Doctor Rogers shook his head with uncertainty.

"Some of the drugs in his system we have yet to identify. In fact, I've never seen anything like them."

Bozer looked down at MacGyver. He hated to think of him drugged and helpless somewhere. This was the guy that always seemed to have an answer, a way out of every bad situation. "Do you think trauma is what's keepin' him from talking, too?"

The doctor looked down at his clipboard. "His vocal cords show signs of rupturing, which can be caused by a few different things, but in Mr. MacGyver's case..." he trailed off with a frown. "I imagine in Mr. MacGyver's case, his ruptured vocal cords were caused by prolonged screaming."

With a pained look, Jack screwed his eyes shut.

"However, he's not even attempting to talk, or even mouth words, which leads me to believe that psychological, or neurological trauma is likely preventing him from communicating, and may even explain his apparent amnesia."

"What **are** his injuries, exactly?" Bozer pressed, though part of him really didn't want to know.

The doctor hesitated, and Bozer would never forget what that felt like; that brief flash of terror that shot through him like a lightening bolt.

"In addition to innumerable superficial wounds, he has a mild concussion, multiple deep lacerations, burns and puncture marks. The fingers on his right hand have been broken repeatedly and have healed wrong. His left hip has extensive bruising and–"

They had been looking down at MacGyver in horror until the doctor paused. Finally, taking a measured breath, he continued, "–and the femur bone there, from what we've gathered from the x-rays, appears to have been drilled into numerous times with a small object."

Clenching his jaw, Jack closed his eyes. He wanted to scream, to throw things and beat the hell out of whoever did this to his boy. Instead, he did the only thing he could do; he ran a shaky hand through his partner's hair and vowed never to let him down again.

Bozer found himself in a chair he didn't even realize he had sat in.

"In short," the doctor continued softly, "as I'm sure you've gathered, your friend was tortured. Extensively."

"Wi-" Jack swallowed down the bile that rose to the back of his throat, "will he heal?" His voice felt thick, heavy; weighed down by the impact of the doctor's words as he watched his partner's back rise and fall with his breaths.

"In time the superficial, so-to-speak, injuries will heal. Surgery and physical therapy on his fingers may help him recover some usage, but his hip...I suspect it'll never stop hurting him. As I'm sure you can imagine, there's also concern over what drugs he's been given and if there will be any lasting neurological effects from them. There are some abnormalities on his brain scan, but they could resolve themselves over time with the help of treatment and therapy. More scans will need to be done to begin to determine if that's the case and which treatments. We don't have the means to perform all of those here, nor analyze some of the chemicals we've found in Mr. MacGyver's system. I was hoping I could get your permission to send some of his blood work to a lab in the city."

The words raked over them, scraping up pieces of their hearts as they went. Jack just wanted them to stop. He wanted everything to stop and go back in time when Mac was home and safe and whole. "When can we take him home?" If MacGyver had escaped, the bastards might be willing to plow through a small hospital to get him back. It would be the first place they'd look.

The doctor exhaled as he thought. "We need to get that IV back in. He needs fluids and antibiotics. I'd prefer to keep him for observation for at least two days. His physical injuries, though extensive, are not life threatening...but that doesn't mean there aren't any underlining issues we haven't discovered yet."

Bozer and Jack nodded numbly; struggling to take it all in.

"As for the scans and blood work...?" He looked to Jack.

"Hmmm?"

The doctor didn't show any signs of irritation for having to repeat himself. He looked down at his clipboard. "I have you listed as power of attorney, Mr. Dalton. Does Mr. MacGyver have a doctor you'd prefer I send his scans to, and will you permit me to send his blood work to a lab in the city? They'll have more sophisticated equipment to allow us to determine what we're dealing with and how to proceed with treatment, if necessary."

"Oh, uh, yeah, just send everything to Matty Webber." She knew the best of the best to get MacGyver the best. They also had the best labs to figure out what the hell Mac had been given.

"I'll, uh, get you that information," Bozer offered when Jack didn't. Focused completely again on MacGyver, he was carding his fingers through the blond hair. MacGyver had wormed his way over more, so his face was pressed into Jack's stomach now.

The doctor nodded. "I suggest starting him on therapy as soon as possible."

"What kind?" Bozer asked.

The doctor gave him a grave look over his glasses. "All of it."

Bozer swallowed hard and looked back down at his best friend.

"I'll make a list of additional scans and tests that I think should be done over the next week to help determine the best course of treatment for your friend. To be honest, I'd normally recommend having someone in his mental state admitted to our sister facility for a forty-eight hour psych eval after discharging them from here."

That got Jack's attention. The look he gave him was clear. "Yeah, that ain't gonna happen, doc."

"I expected as much, but..." he hesitated, "if you love your friend as you appear to, don't deny him the help he may need just because you can't accept that he may need it. There may come a time when you'll have to choose."

Bozer swallowed hard at the thought of having MacGyver committed.

Eyes back on Mac, Jack clenched his jaw but otherwise didn't respond.

"I understand he's from California?"

"Yeah, why?" Bozer looked to him.

"He's anemic and has some fluid in his lungs. I would advise against flying, if possible."

"Are you saying we have to drive all the way home with him like this?" Bozer couldn't imagine how difficult that would be for him. "We don't even know if the lunatics that had him are out there looking for him."

"Not ideal, I understand." The doctor was genuinely sympathetic. "In his condition, I'm not sure how well he'll handle the discomfort flying may cause. You could always wait a few days, see if his lungs clear up and his red blood cell count improves. Or you could fly, but I'd caution ag–"

"No." Jaw tight, Jack shook his head. "No, we'll drive." But they weren't going home.

The doctor nodded. "Well, then we best get that IV back in."

"I do not anticipate this going well," Bozer muttered under his breath.

"Ah," the doctor agreed, "I shouldn't think, considering the looks of this place." There was still equipment all over the floor. But despite all that had happened to MacGyver, he was still full of fight. "Perhaps it'll go better now that you two are here, hmm? I'll get the nurse. Good luck, gentlemen."

~*~M~*~

Their hopes of getting an IV in while he slept were quickly dashed. The moment the nurse touched his arm, MacGyver woke swinging. It wasn't hard to see why. There were needle marks up and down both arms; old and new.

Jack was able to calm him down, but the way he looked up at him; blue eyes pleading and full of confusion nearly did him in. "Come on, now, Nurse Lily here is just trying to make you better," Jack explained while MacGyver's wide, watery eyes looked up at him from where he was trying to hide against his chest. "The sooner we can get some medicine in you, the sooner we can get out of here, bud."

Jack has dealt with a confused and altered MacGyver before, but never to this degree. He didn't know if his heart could take much more.

Head on Jack's chest, MacGyver finally let the nurse hook him up to an IV. He didn't even flinch when she inserted the needle. He just laid there looking sad and resigned. It wasn't long before he fell back to sleep and remained that way for the rest of the night.

~*~M~*~

They spent most of the night cataloging his injuries over and over again. With tears in his eyes and MacGyver under his arm, Jack just kept shaking his head. "He's alive, Boze." He said again and again. "We'll figure out the rest."

They slept, or tried to, in shifts–despite having two armed guards right outside the room and a butt load of Phoenix agents in the area. Bozer started taking walks through the short halls of the small hospital around three a.m. Jack remained glued to Mac's side. When Bozer returned from one of his many walks, the nurses were there to change his bandages.

He went on another walk.

This time he nearly ran into Doctor Rogers. "Mr. Bozer, where are you off to? Or are you just aggressively pacing?"

"Uh, he's–they're changing his bandages and he's not taking it so well. To be honest, neither was I, so..."

"Needed a bit of fresh air, so to speak?"

Swallowing down his shame, Bozer nodded. "It's just...he doesn't even know me, so I figured I was probably just adding to his discomfort anyway."

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "It's not easy seeing those we love hurting."

Tears filled Bozer's eyes. "Especially when they're usually the calm and stoic one."

~*~M~*~

Jack brushed a knuckle lightly across the stubble on MacGyver's cheek as he held him close. "She's almost done, buddy," he promised, not for the first time. She was just applying ointment to the burns now; which Jack could only assume were from a car battery and jumper cables...and some, some maybe from a heated knife.

MacGyver continued to shake, mew and squirm under her ministrations–shoving her hands away every few seconds while his face was buried in Jack's chest. The former Delta had only been able to hold back his own tears for so long, because he knew, he _knew_ that it wasn't pain that was causing MacGyver's reaction; the nurse was being extraordinarily careful: it was fear. He was terrified of being touched. Because for the past six weeks, it had meant very bad things, it had meant pain.

"Nearly there." The nurse had tears in her own eyes.

Nodding, Jack brushed his fingers through MacGyver's hair. It was longer than he had seen it in years. "Ssshh, you're all right, Mac. I got you. Jack's got you," he whispered close to his ear. "I'm here, bud."

"All done." The nurse pulled away so quickly, Jack nearly got whiplash.

"You hear that, buddy? She's done. You're all right."

MacGyver's panicked breathing immediately started to slow, and his body gradually relaxed into Jack. The grip he had on him with his good hand, however, remained like a vice.

Jack kept talking to him, kept making promises of safety until MacGyver's breathing evened out and he fell asleep in his arms. Taking a moment for himself, Jack closed his eyes. Another tear slipped free, but he barely noticed the warmth sliding down his face; all of his attention on the warmth in his arms. It was almost as if they had traded one nightmare for another.

"He out?" Bozer asked timidly from the doorway. If Jack startled slightly, Bozer didn't notice.

"Yeah."

"Hey, uh, I-I'm sorry about that," he tried to apologize for leaving. "I just..."

"It's all right, Boze." But his voice was rough and weary and his eyes were fixed on Mac.

 _No, it's not_ , Bozer thought, but couldn't bring himself to voice it.

~*~M~*~

"How's our boy doing?" Doctor Rogers asked quietly, entering the room. "I hear the bandage change didn't go over well."

Lying on his guardian's chest, MacGyver was receiving a breathing treatment as he slept. Jack was holding the mask next to, but not touching his face so he'd breathe the medicated mist in.

"Understatement, but yeah." Jack kept his own voice low, hoping not to disturb MacGyver's much needed rest.

"Perhaps it'll go over better with you doing it."

Jack nodded, hoping so, too. He knew he could do it, he's changed the kid's bandages more times than he cared to count over the years, but this...

"Will you be comfortable doing so?"

"Hell, no," he answered roughly, truthfully, "but I will."

"And I'll help him," Bozer vowed, meeting Jack's eyes.

Jack gave him a nod.

The doctor looked down at his clipboard. "All right, his liver and kidney functions are improving, so that's encouraging. What little we're giving him seems to be helping to alleviate withdrawal symptoms."

"He's going to go through withdrawal?" Bozer asked nervously.

The doctor took a breath. "It's possible. We still don't know everything he was given, how much, or how long. So, as a precautionary measure we have him on some mild–"

Entire body jerking, MacGyver opened his eyes. "Easy, Mac you're all right," Jack immediately assured, lowering the breathing treatment and squeezing the back of his neck.

MacGyver lifted his head slightly off of Jack's chest and looked around with half-lidded eyes.

"Mr. MacGyver, it's good to finally –"

Eyes widening at the doctor, MacGyver shoved himself off the cot and landed heavily on the floor before Jack could react.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Jack dropped down next to him as he backpedaled, distancing himself from the doctor. "It's just the doc, Mac, he ain't gonna hurt you."

MacGyver's eyes darted around the room in desperation. He then reached for Jack and tugged at him...until Jack was behind him.

The doctor was holding up his hands in a non threatening manner. "Mr. MacGyver, I promise you I'm only here to help you. Your friends will see to that."

MacGyver was shaking as he continued to look around the room. Jack recognized the look. He was searching for a way out, for a way to save them.

"Mac, you're at the hospital now," Bozer told him calmly next to the doctor. "You're **safe**."

MacGyver's eyes zeroed in on him, then back to the doctor in a panic. Making a sound in the back of his throat, he moved slightly in Bozer's direction before nervously moving back.

"Bozer, get over here," Jack ordered.

He immediately did while the doctor stood still trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. "He's trying to protect you from me," he said in awe.

Bozer knelt beside MacGyver, then scooted slightly behind him when he grunted and pushed at him.

"Easy, Mac–we're here, nobody's gonna hurt us."

The doctor looked down at himself. "Other than being a male, what's different about me from the nurses."

Bozer looked between his terrified friend and the doctor. "I don't think any of them have glasses."

Taking them off, he placed them in his white coat.

MacGyver was practically hyperventilating. There was nothing within reach to protect himself with...that his altered mind could come up with, anyway. Jack spared a look up at the doctor, about to tell him to just get the hell out when he realized something. "The coat! Take off the coat!"

He immediately shed his white coat and tossed it towards the door.

MacGyver blinked and startled as if slapped. Then furrowing his brow, he blinked again as if seeing Doctor Rogers for the first time. His eyes darted back around the room in search of the threat.

"Nobody here is gonna hurt you, Mac," Jack told him again.

MacGyver's wide eyes locked onto his then...just before they rolled back in his head and he started to seize.

~*~M~*~

Standing at the hospital room's large window, Bozer stared out. MacGyver was still unconscious. Jack was still pacing and Doctor Rogers was still running tests. So far, the cause of the seizure was unknown. _It could be from a number of reason_ they were told: the drugs, trauma, stress. He could have seizures the rest of his life, or that could be the only one.

It was a whole lot of unhelpful information.

If Bozer heard, "Its too soon to tell," one more time, he was going to punch something. If Mac were...himself right now, he would have figured out what drugs he was given with a match stick and a lemon, _and_ how to treat the effects from them using ketchup and fish oil...or something. But that was just it: Mac wasn't himself. And Bozer wasn't sure he'd ever be again.

~*~M~*~

Curled up on his side on the bed, MacGyver was dressed in sweat pants and a black t-shirt that were two sizes too big. They were Jack's, from his go-bag. Having no more seizures for over forty hours, he was finally being discharged with enough pills to choke a horse.

Jack was happy they were getting out of there. He just wanted to get Mac home, but he'd have to settle for the next best thing. "We'll need to get him some clothes and shoes," he stated as he tried to slip some socks onto his feet.

Flinching, MacGyver kicked out his good leg as if on instinct before pulling his foot away and tucking his knee to his chest. Jack held up non-threatening hands. "Whoa, easy, bud. I'm just gonna put some socks on ya real easy, all right?"

MacGyver didn't respond, but he also didn't pull away when Jack tried again. Instead, his attention turned to the wad of gauze taped into the crook of his arm. It was where they had put yet another IV in after he ripped the previous one out trying to get away from the doctor. He feebly pawed at it with his injured hand until Jack noticed and carefully, but quickly tore it off.

Bozer felt like he needed to do something. He wanted to help, but MacGyver wasn't comfortable with him still. His _best friend_ wasn't comfortable with him. "Uh, I'll go..." He needed some fresh air. He needed to...to not see MacGyver like this for a bit. He needed to be useful.

"Go where?"

"To get him some clothes. You'd just end up getting him six different _Metallica_ t-shirts, anyway."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Finished with the socks, Jack straightened and looked down at their friend. Still curled up on his side, MacGyver's blue eyes shifted dimly between the two of them. Though he appeared to trust them, or at least Jack, there still was a lack of recognition there.

Jack washed a hand down his face and sighed. Bozer knew exactly what he was thinking: They got Mac back, but in many ways, he was still lost to them.

~*~M~*~

" _Phoenix agents have been tearing the area he was found in apart. Nothing so far."_

Jack scrubbed a hand over the top of his head. "All right. Keep me in the loop. The nurse said some hikers found him unconscious on a trail."

" _We know, Jack. No rock is going unturned. You just focus on our boy."_

"Roger that."

" _How is he?"_

Jack hesitated. "He hasn't had anymore seizures. Doc is letting us leave. Thinks it might be best for Mac, and there's nothing more he can do right now for him."

" _And how are_ _ **you**_ _, Jack?"_

Shaking his head, his eyes burned and the constant ache in his chest flared. The words got lodged in his throat.

" _Jack?"_

"Ev-every mark on him, Matty..." he choked out, "I can hear him screamin' in my head, screaming for me to make it stop."

" _Jack–"_

" **I wasn't there**."

" _Jack."_ Matty's tone softened. _"Don't do this to yourself. You're going to get him through this."_

"I don't–" his breath hitched, "I don't know if I can. I don't know if I'm enough."

" _You always have been._ " But he could hear the break in her voice before she steadied it. _"I don't believe that has changed."_

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath ,trying to center himself and get his emotions back under control. MacGyver didn't need him falling apart. He looked back over his shoulder at him. He still hadn't said a word. Not even the psychologist they had brought in could garner so much as a squeak. In fact, while she was evaluating him, MacGyver had pulled even more into himself – until Jack kicked her out.

" _I'm sending you some help."_

Exhaling, Jack got back to packing his go-bag and threw some extra bandages into it. MacGyver was being released under the _strict_ condition that he be seen by a doctor in less than forty eight hours. Jack already had an appointment set up for tomorrow and was taking a copy of all of Mac's scans and blood work with him. Their Phoenix labs were still running tests on his blood to identify what he was given.

" _Jack?"_

"No bueno, Matty. Bozer and I will be fine with him. I think he recognizes us on some level and bringing in some stran–"

" _Just trust me, will ya, Dalton?"_

"I'm not bringin' him home."

" _I know."_ There was a sad acceptance to her words.

"I called in a favor. I'll send you coordinates once we get some burners." He had no idea who he could trust, and he wasn't taking any chances. He didn't care if he were overreacting. He never thought it was a coincidence that Mac was taken right after quitting the Phoenix. Someone had been watching him. Closely. Plus, he figured a few hours in the car to his old buddy's cabin would be easier on Mac than hauling him all the way back to L.A. right now.

" _All right. In the meantime, accept the help I sent."_

"Matty–" He sighed."All right, fine. Who are you sending?"

" _You'll see."_

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted, beyond so. The sooner they got on the road, and somewhere they could truly rest, the better. "Well, we're shipping out as soon as Bozer gets back with some clothes and supplies, so–"

"I hope you're packing snacks."

Jack lowered the phone and turned at the voice behind him. "Charlie." He felt the knot in his stomach loosen some. He didn't realize just how much he wanted backup until it arrived. "You are a sight for sore eyes, man," he said, hanging up on Matty and pulling him into a hug.

"When Director Webber called and told me you found him, well..." His concerned eyes raked over MacGyver, who was watching him warily and with zero recognition. "I got on the first flight out."

Jack's throat tightened. MacGyver inspired the fiercest loyalty from his friends. "Thanks, man." He squeezed his shoulder before stepping back over to MacGyver. "Mac, you remember Charlie?" He sat next to his hip on the bed. "He's an old buddy of yours from the sandbox, from before we even met."

His head didn't move from the pillow as he regarded the former EOD tech. After a moment, he looked up at Jack with uncertainty in his eyes.

"He's a good guy, Mac. You can trust him." Over the past couple of days, MacGyver had slowly started to become more receptive and turn to Jack–not only for comfort, but for guidance.

"Don't worry, Mac," the conviction in Charlie's voice was unwavering, despite the troubled look in his eyes, "we're gonna get you home."

MacGyver's lips twitched into a frown as his gaze dropped. Then he craned his neck to look out into the hallway.

"Yeah, I'm wondering where Bozer is, too," Jack muttered. "Ten bucks he got you a stuffed animal."

MacGyver looked up at him quizzically.

"You know I'm right." He was acting like he knew with certainty that MacGyver remembered such things. "He can't cook for you on the road, so he's gonna have to find another way to try and comfort you. I'm bettin' it'll be a big, giant teddy bear that we'll have to strap to the damn roof."

Charlie snorted. MacGyver looked confused.

~*~M~*~

It was a dinosaur.

A big, plush dinosaur.

"At least we won't have to strap it to the roof," Charlie quipped upon seeing it. It fit perfectly tucked under Bozer's arm.

"Bozer," Jack groaned, pushing Mac out the back entrance of the hospital in a wheelchair. "Really?" He knew there were a dozen Phoenix agents watching them, but his eyes still automatically darted around the area checking for threats.

Bozer had been pacing back and forth nervously in front of the SUV rental when they came out. "What?"

When Jack noticed MacGyver squinting into the sun, he took his glasses off and placed them on him. MacGyver flinched and blinked owlishly, but didn't remove them. "The dino, man."

Bozer took it out from under his arm to look at it. It was green and oddly had blue eyes. "I figured it could be our mascot. I shall call it... _Mr. B_ for Brontosaurs _._ "

"You shall call it, _Out the Window_ if it ends up anywhere near me," Jack warned without any real heat.

Bozer frowned at the stuffed animal before handing it, predictably, to MacGyver. Sitting in the wheel chair, MacGyver's face scrunched up slightly like he wasn't sure what he was even looking at, let alone what he should do with it.

"You just hold it under your arm, like this," Bozer demonstrated.

Charlie was watching them as he placed their bags in the back of the vehicle. "You know, Mac's not a kid, right?"

"I know," Bozer admitted as MacGyver tentatively took the dinosaur. "It's just...sometimes, I figure, it's just nice to have something to hold onto, ya know. No matter how old you are."

Jack sighed. "All right, fair enough," he conceded, helping MacGyver to stand. On top of being alarmingly weak, his hip wouldn't hold him. They gave him crutches, but either he didn't understand how to use them, or he just preferred Jack over them. "When he gets his memory back, though, don't be surprised if he shoves that where the sun don't shine."

"Uh," Bozer rethought his decision as MacGyver shakily climbed into the backseat with Jack's help. "Uh, maybe I should hold onto that for you, Mac–"

"Nope, too late, he's attached. We're naming it _Bones._ "

Bozer cursed. MacGyver looked overwhelmed and ended up absently squishing the plush dinosaur against his chest as Jack buckled his seatbelt for him. Not for the first time Jack wondered what was going on in that head of his. He gently squeezed MacGyver's shoulder as he looked nervously around the vehicle. "Mac?"

His blue eyes were big, and full of trepidation as he looked up at him with a question in his eyes.

"What is it, bud?"

His mouth opened and Jack's heart skipped a beat. But he only drew a weary breath before looking away. It was hell seeing him like this; so quiet and hurting and subdued. Jack felt a tug on his wrist and looked down to see MacGyver's finger hooked on his leather cuff. He gave another tug.

Jack had to swallow back the tears when he realized what he was asking. "Don't you worry, I'm not letting you out of my sight, brother." He dropped a hand over the mop of blond. "Capisce?"

MacGyver's eyes met his briefly before he dropped his gaze, but Jack saw the relief there.

"All right there, bubba," Jack whispered hoarsely, squeezing his shoulder again, "let's get this show on the road."

~*~M~*~

Phoenix wouldn't be following them. Jack had made that clear. He was in super papa bear mode. The fewer people that knew of their location, the better. They all were being shamelessly overprotective, and God help whoever tried to stop them.

Slouched in the backseat, MacGyver had blinked sluggishly, eyes roaming back and forth between Jack and the road until he had finally fallen asleep.

Sitting in the backseat next to him, "Man, I wish you could talk to us," Bozer murmured softly to his sleeping friend. "It'd be great to hear your voice." He needed him to tell him he'd be okay. He needed him to lie.

Jack's eyes met his in the rearview mirror, sharing the pain he felt. After all this time of searching, they finally had MacGyver back...but he still seemed so far away.

Bozer looked down at their burner phone when it rang. "Riley. Again." She called nearly every hour since they had gotten to the hospital. Not that Bozer could blame her. He'd be doing the same if he were the one stuck in L.A. tracking down digital leads. He went to say, _hello_ , but she was already talking when he answered.

" _I know he's not talking, but has he said anything yet?"_

Bozer made a face as his brain confirmed what she had said...and that it made no sense. "Uh, no. Still all quiet on the Mac-front."

Riley sighed _,_ disappointed. " _All right. Let me know if anything changes."_

He had already made that promise. Countless times. "Copy that. Any leads on your end?"

" _Not yet. I wish I were there."_

"Me, too."

Bozer frowned when MacGyver started to fidget in his sleep. "Hey, Ri let me call you back."

"What's going on back there?"

Charlie turned around in the passenger seat. "Looks like he's having a–"

Jolting violently, MacGyver started fighting an invisible force; hands, elbows and feet hitting off of everything in reach as he grunted and whined deep in the back of his throat.

"Whoa, Mac. Mac, wake up!" Bozer tried to calm him down, but he kept pushing and kicking at whatever he thought was assaulting him–including Bozer.

Jack pulled off the road and slammed the vehicle into park. He was out the door and around to MacGyver's before the vehicle stopped rocking in place. When he opened the back door, MacGyver woke with a ragged cry and tried to escape.

"Whoa, hey easy, bud." Jack gently blocked his blows while also trying to keep him from falling out of the vehicle. "You're safe, Mac. You're safe. It's Jack, buddy."

Chest heaving, MacGyver continued to push at him even as he collapsed back into his seat, already spent. Jack kept his hands gently wrapped around his arms, trying to be careful of his injuries. "You with us, Mac?"

Still taking in deep, ragged breaths, the look MacGyver gave Jack broke something inside of Bozer. By the sound Jack made in the back of his throat and the way he pulled him into his arms, he had felt it too: that ingrained belief that their boy could handle anything, rebound from anything...shattering into a million pieces.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to all who have read/liked and commented! Chapter lyrics from: "Pieces," by Red. (I think this chapter is less painful than the first.)

**CHAPTER TWO**

" _I come to you in pieces, so you can make me whole."_

Jack was in no hurry to let go and neither was MacGyver– whose body had grown heavier against his until he fell asleep.

"What are you thinking, Jack?" Charlie asked, voice pitched low so not to disturb their friend. Leaning in the passenger side window, he looked as helpless as they all felt.

Jack continued to rub his thumb back and forth across the back of MacGyver's neck. It was soothing him and he'd do it all damn day if that's what it took to bring him an ounce of comfort. "I'm thinking it's your turn to drive." His tone turned dark, "And when we catch the bastards responsible, I'm gonna forget that I ever knew the word 'mercy.'"

Charlie nodded in mutual agreement. Bozer felt sick, and he must have looked it.

"You all right, Boze?"

"No." He looked over at Jack. "I'm not. I mean, are you? Are any of us?" He pointed at MacGyver and tried not to raise his voice. "My best friend was abducted, _tortured_ and now doesn't even know who I am. This is _Mac._ This is our...this is the guy that can hack the hell out of _anything_ , but he can't even–" Taking a shuddering breath, Bozer shook his head and abruptly wiped at the tears that broke free. "He–" Swallowing hard and shaking his head again, he looked away, looked out his own window. He couldn't find the words. Such words didn't exist that could adequately describe what was happening to his heart.

As if the situation wasn't hard enough, at least Jack was able to reach through MacGyver's fear and comfort him. MacGyver had yet to accept any such comfort from Bozer. "If it makes you feel any better, he won't even let Charlie touch him," he offered weakly.

Bozer snorted. "It doesn't hurt. No offense, Charlie." He glance in his direction.

Charlie held up his hands. "None taken. But I say we hit him up for a few beers when he's up and remembering again."

" _If_ he remembers," Bozer muttered dejectedly.

"He will," Jack vowed. "It's like all those times before when Mac has gotten lost in his head working on a project, or worrying over somethin'. He just... He just went real deep this time, that's all. We'll get him out, Boze. We'll find him and we'll get him out. We will."

Bozer held his gaze, searching for any doubt he was trying to hide. He wouldn't find it. Jack had buried it even deeper than Mac had buried himself.

~*~M~*~

It had been over an hour since MacGyver woke in a panic. They were back on the road, but Jack was still holding him. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of being able to do so. Funny, considering that when he first met the kid, he couldn't wait to shake him.

His abilities had impressed the hell out of Jack, but that wasn't what made him stay and devote his entire life to watching over him. No, it wasn't his mind that had made Jack stay.

It was his heart.

And it was that sameheart that Jack _knew_ was still in there, that would get MacGyver through this; that would get them all through this.

"He's awake," Bozer announced after casting a look back at them. He turned around in the passenger seat.

"Yeah," Jack didn't miss a beat. "His fingers have been fluttering against my side, twisting up my shirt for a good ten minutes now. You didn't happen to buy paperclips, did you?"

" _Of course_ I bought paperclips, what do you take me for? They're in Mr. B."

Jack raised his eyebrows skeptically. "They're in the...dinosaur?"

"Stomach." Bozer handed it back to him. It had been riding with him since MacGyver had something better to hold onto. "There's a zipper."

Jack took it and indeed found the zipper as MacGyver watched silently with his head on his chest.

"You wouldn't happen to have a Rubik's cube and some Jerky in here, would you?"

"Uh, no, but check the bags in back."

Jack was impressed. Bozer had thought of everything.

Pulling out a paperclip, he offered it to MacGyver. "Remember these?"

MacGyver didn't show an ounce of interest. He looked up at Jack, puzzled. The sniper blinked back the unexpected tears and forced a smile. "Yeah, well, maybe later." He tucked one into his shirt pocket.

"I never thought Mac turnin' down a paperclip would hurt so bad," Bozer admitted softly.

Deep in troublesome thoughts, Jack grunted in agreement.

Digging a palm into his hip, MacGyver stretched his legs as much as he could in the backseat, then turned his head to look out the window.

"You hurtin,' bud?" Jack noticed he was squinting, too. He wasn't sure where his sunglasses had went. One thing about this Mac: he didn't try to hide his pain. But, just like usual, you had to look for signs of it. "Hey, Charlie you wanna find a place were we can pull off and try to get somethin' in him? I think those pills need to be taken with food. Probably would do some good to let our boy here stretch, too."

"Sure thing."

"You hungry, Mac?" Bozer asked, hopeful. They had only been able to get protein shakes in him.

But, not unexpectedly, MacGyver didn't answer. He merely blinked listlessly and watched as the scenery went by.

~*~M~*~

With the sun low in the sky, they found a quiet spot off to the side at a rest stop. Sitting fitfully at the picnic table, MacGyver took turns between rubbing various injuries. "You're gonna rub off the scabs and stitches, bud." Not for the first time, Jack gently pulled his hands away between trying to get his pills ready.

"How's he doing?" Charlie asked, helping Bozer to find something for MacGyver in the many bags of snacks he had acquired.

"He's holdin' up." Jack cut the larger pill–the pain pill in half and slid it in front of their friend. "Down the hatch, bubba."

Hugging Bones closer to his chest, MacGyver slouched sideways into Jack's shoulder and looked up at him–like he did every time he was uncertain of something and needed confirmation from Jack.

"They'll help you feel better, homie." He moved the protein shake Bozer had dug out closer, after taking a sip and placing a straw in it. "And this will help you grow up to be big and strong."

MacGyver blinked as the joke went over his head. When he didn't move to take the pills, Jack tried to be helpful and brought them to his mouth, but MacGyver turned his face into his shoulder. "Come on, man these will help you feel better."

Tensing, his breathing sped up and a slight tremor rippled through him. Jack grimaced and lowered the pills. He didn't want to force him. It was important he be able to make his own decisions, now more than ever. But, he needed the medicine...

"What are you gonna do?" Bozer asked, watching with worry.

"I dunno, it's not like I can take these first to show him they're safe." That was the only way they got him to drink the protein shakes.

Charlie gestured for Jack to hand him the pills and grabbed a small, single serving container of apple sauce. He sat it on the bench seat between him and Bozer.

Catching on to what he was doing, "I dunno, man. That'll make for some chunky apple sauce."

Charlie handed the small cup back to him a little fuller than it was before. "Just make sure you only give him one at a time."

"All right, here goes nothin'." Jack dipped his spoon in–careful to only get apple sauce, and made sure MacGyver saw him eat it. "Mmm, cinnamon-y." He then got another spoonful; this time with a single pill. "All right, come on now, we need to fatten you up." He held the spoon out to MacGyver. "At the risk of you popping me one later, I'll forgo the airplane noises, but Mac, you gotta eat this. _Please._ " Jack didn't know what else he could try if this didn't work. They were hoping that once he left the hospital, he'd be more inclined to eat. If they couldn't get him to eat, or take his pills... he'd have to go back.

Head still on his shoulder, MacGyver looked with unease between the spoon and Jack. When Jack moved the spoon closer to his mouth, Mac moved his head back.

"Mac, _please,"_ Jack pleaded. "I'm beggin' ya."

Looking incredibly young and vulnerable, MacGyver met his eyes...before pushing his hand away.

"Well, okay then." Lowering the spoon, Jack sighed. "Plan C, anyone?"

"Maybe it's a texture thing," Bozer wondered aloud. "He drinks the shakes with less fuss."

"Yeah, maybe." Jack frowned as he considered and reached for the shake.

"So where are we headed," Charlie asked as he opened a stick of beef jerky.

"A little cabin about another hour west of here. It belongs to an old Delta buddy of mine." Jack tapped MacGyver on the shoulder to get his attention and handed him the protein shake. Taking it, MacGyver held it against his chest next to Bones.

"I'll be happy to sleep in a bed." Three nights in a hospital chair did Bozer no favors. He watched as MacGyver sipped on his protein shake."Maybe we can get him to eat some of my scrambled eggs tomorrow." He couldn't stand seeing him so thin, and those shakes would only do him so much good.

"Worth a try." Jack took a handful of Goldfish crackers and popped some into his mouth. He wasn't terribly hungry, but maybe if he set a good example, MacGyver would try to eat more. As something occurred to him, he looked down at the lone fish that remained in his hand, and raised an eyebrow at Bozer.

Bozer raised an eyebrow back, looked at MacGyver, looked at Jack, and shrugged. He then poured a few Goldfish out onto a napkin in front of him. "Help yourself, Mac."

Jack stole one from the pile for himself and tossed it into his mouth, knowing that MacGyver was watching his every move.

MacGyver looked at the orange pile of goldfish shaped crackers. Bozer swore he'd seen him regard a nest of bombs with less trepidation. The film maker–turned spy took a cracker from the pile himself and Charlie followed suit; trying to show him that it was truly safe. The three of them continued to eat from the pile, adding more as needed until MacGyver secured Bones and his drink against is chest with his left arm, and reached out towards the pile of Goldfish crackers with his right. Unsteady, broken fingers skimmed across the picnic table, until he curled an already bent finger around a single fish and, ever so carefully, pulled it back to his chest.

They all watched, holding their breath as they waited to see if he'd eat it. MacGyver looked down at the little fish in his palm for a long moment...before finally lifting it to his mouth.

"And the crowd goes wiiiild," Jack whispered with barely contained excitement.

"Who'd have thought that a little goldfish could bring so much joy," Bozer mused aloud.

"Uh, anyone who's ever seen _Finding Nemo,"_ Jack rebuked.

Bozer gave him a look. "Nemo is a _clown_ fish, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes upwards as he thought. "Whatever, the point is–"

"Guys," Charlie cut off what would have likely been a very long and pointless argument, "look."

MacGyver was reaching for another cracker. Still slumped against Jack's shoulder, he looked up at him, making sure it was okay.

"Have at it, bud. There's plenty more Nemos where those came from."

Bozer rolled his eyes.

To their relief, MacGyver continued to eat, albeit extraordinarily slow. Every few crackers, Jack would slip a spoon of apple sauce in–finding MacGyver more acquiescent when he was distracted. It wasn't all that different from how they used to get food into him– when he was all wrapped up in his head for some reason or another.

As he ate, MacGyver kept casting looks at his oldest friend until Bozer finally asked, "Remember me yet?" and flashed him one of his best smiles.

MacGyver looked up at Jack, who shrugged. " _I_ don't even know who he is. But he brought a dinosaur and goldfish, so–" Jack flinched when one of Bozer's Nemos bounced off his nose.

~*~M~*~

"Nearly a forth of a cup," Bozer announced as Jack wiped MacGyver's fingers off. He had given him the napkin to do so himself, but he ended up just holding it instead of actually using it.

"It ain't much, but it's not nothin' either." He even got the rest of the pills in him.

MacGyver wasn't paying any attention to them. As Jack cleaned off his hand, he was looking up at the small tree they were under. There was a light, warm breeze and he seemed mesmerized by the dancing branches.

Charlie shook his head as he wiped off his own fingers. "I've always marveled at Mac's brain, wondering what goes on in there–"

"Let me guess, but now you _really_ want to know." MacGyver's head was still on Jack's shoulder, tilted so he could watch the darkening sky and leaves.

Charlie pointed a _bingo_ finger at the former delta.

"Yeah, join the club." Bozer crossed his arms on the picnic table. Everything seemed so surreal. It felt like they had been looking for him for _forever_. And now he was suddenly there sitting at a picnic table inthe middle of nowhere with them, of all places.

And Bozer was still wondering if he'd ever truly get his friend back.

He watched as blue eyes that used to recognize him, fought against closing. _This_ was something he was familiar with: his exhausted best friend fighting sleep. Whether reluctant to wind down after a hard mission, or too involved in an experiment to realize his eyes were half closed, Mac had a habit of fighting sleep when he needed it most.

"When Matilda was filling me in, she said they haven't been able to reach..." Charlie hesitated and looked over at MacGyver, "...him." He wasn't sure if he should mention James' name. Thankfully, Jack knew who he was talking about.

"Yeah, he went deep when Mac disappeared."

Charlie still couldn't believe he'd been his boss the entire time. He couldn't blame MacGyver for quitting. He couldn't imagine it was easy, though. His job was his life, his family.

"I should have been with him," Jack berated himself, as he always did when he looked back on that day. "He was upset and probably not paying atten–"

"Jack," Bozer cut him off, "we've been over this. It's not your fault Mac was taken."

"I should have _been_ there."

"Jack, who's to say you could have stopped it?" Charlie pointed out. "That they wouldn't have just killed you?"

"Yeah, then who would Mac have to lean on now?" And not just physically.

Sighing, Jack clenched his jaw. He heard what they were saying, but it didn't make him feel any better.

~*~M~*~

MacGyver slept through the last leg of the trip. But when Jack opened his car door in the cabin's driveway, he blinked and squinted up at him. He was holding _Sir Alexander Bones_ – as Bozer now insisted they call it, and was looking ridiculously young. "Welp, you did it, Boze. You officially made him look all of two years old."

Bozer snorted from the seat beside him. "Like it took much."

Jack canted his head to the side with a doting grin. "Yeah, well you got me there." MacGyver was still just looking at him, blond hair askew. "You ready to stretch out, brother? Maybe we can find some Bruce Willis movies on the tube."

"For the love of God, Mac, if ever there was a time to speak up, it's now."

"Har, har," Jack returned, unbuckling their friend.

He was even less steady on his feet than he was when he first left the hospital. Not for the first time Jack wondered how the hell he ended up in the middle of the forest, when he could barely stand on his own.

Clutching Sir Alexander Bones against his side, MacGyver's eyes darted around the property. The cabin had a wraparound porch and sat nestled amongst the trees along a large and currently moonlit lake.

"Damn, Jack your friend sure has some taste."

Jack noticed that MacGyver had been taking an increased interest in their surroundings since they had left the hospital ...when awake; like he was slowly coming out of a fog. With tears in his eyes, however, he looked overwhelmed.

Jack helped him up the two steps on the side of the porch. "You all right, bud?"

MacGyver pulled Bones closer and tucked its head under his chin. Even as his eyes looked around, Jack could tell he was pulling in on himself–and not just physically. "Hey, come on, man," Jack squeezed his biceps. "You're all right. We're all together here."He grabbed the hide-a-key his buddy had left for them.

"Nice of him to leave the light on for us." Charlie held the screen door open for them. The outside light was on, along with a small light over the stove.

"Yeah, he stocked the place, too." Opening the door, Jack led MacGyver over to the couch and helped him sit.

Bozer brought up the rear carrying their bags. "Man, I need a shower, a bed, and comfort food. I don't care in what order." He shouldered the door closed and dropped their stuff off to the side. He then plopped down into one of the closest chairs. "Mac okay?" Jack was kneeling in front of their friend.

"I'm thinkin' he's just confused," Charlie explained. "He mostly slept since we ate."

"That it, Mac?" Jack squeezed the back of his neck. "I guess your noggin isn't runnin' like it used to right now." He stood and sat next to him on the couch. "All right, sitrep: we're stopping here for you to heal up and rest for awhile, you've been sleeping a lot so you've missed Bozer's stupid car games–"

"Hey, now–"

"–and we're safe."

Eyes taking everything in, MacGyver started rocking in place. Suddenly, he tried to stand. His hip immediately gave out, and he would have fallen to the floor if not for Jack's quick reflexes. "Ho, hey take it easy there, Mac."He tried to ease him back onto the couch, but MacGyver was pulling away, towards the corner of the room.

"What's he doing?" Bozer asked, hovering close now.

Shaking his head, Jack supported MacGyver as he limped passed the fireplace, and to the furthest corner of the room, the furthest corner from the door. He surprised them all when he then lowered himself down onto the floor. Bringing his right knee up to his chest, he pressed the side of his face against the wall. With his eyes on the door, he hugged the dinosaur against him.

An unbearable weight settled over the room, making it hard to draw breath.

"Is this...is this what he did there?" Bozer felt like someone had just taken a fist to his heart. "Curl up in the corner, waiting for them to...to come for him again?"

Nobody answered. With a pained looked in his eyes, Jack lowered himself down next to him. Pulling his legs up, he rest his arms over his knees. He didn't know what to say, where to start. _You're safe_ didn't seem like it would be enough to cut through the blanket of despair that had wrapped itself around his boy. "We're here, Mac. Nobody's gonna hurt you."

"Yeah, they'd have to get through all of us first," Bozer declared.

Bringing his trembling right hand up–a hand that they had all witnessed him smoothly and effortlessly diffuse countless bombs with, MacGyver pressed his damaged fingers against the wall...exactly where a tiny sliver of moonlight peeked through a break in the curtain.

Charlie looked around, realizing how dark the room actually was with only a light on over the stove in the kitchen. Walking over to the window, he pulled the curtains aside. The relief on MacGyver's face was instant. Bathed in moonlight, he closed his eyes with an exhale.

"That better, Mac?" Jack palmed the back of his head.

"Okay, so no dark places," Bozer intoned nervously. "Got it." He immediately started turning on every single light in the place.

"Come here, kid." MacGyver moved away from the wall and curled into Jack. "I got you." Closing his eyes, Jack held him tight; wishing, not for the first time, that he could have taken his place. "Jack's got you now."

~*~M~*~

MacGyver was mostly asleep when Jack practically carried him to the master bedroom. Bozer and Charlie had already opened the curtains and turned on every light. Just as Jack was helping MacGyver onto the bed, the phone chirped in Charlie's hand and MacGyver startled.

"Matty wants you to call her. Asap."

Bozer perked up from his anxious hovering. "Think she caught them?"

"I seriously hope, man. I've been itchin' to break me some bones." Jack gestured down at MacGyver, who was sitting up and leaning against him. He looked dazed and still more asleep than awake. "Mind?"

"Oh, sure," Bozer immediately, though awkwardly, sat next to MacGyver on the bed. MacGyver only hesitated a moment, before he leaned into him and laid his head on his shoulder. Going completely still, Bozer exclaimed with hushed excitement, "He likes me."

~*~M~*~

Jack stepped outside into the cooling night and placed the phone to his ear. "Tell me some good news, Matty," he said by way of greeting.

She hesitated and his stomach dropped. "What?"

" _Those rocks I said we were turning over? Well, one led to an old gem mine where we found Mac's knife...among other things."_

Jack gripped the phone harder. "Anyone hangin' around?"

Again, she hesitated.

"Spit it out, Matty."

" _They were all dead. It was a blood bath, Jack."_

_-_

_-_

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to those who continue to read/comment/like! :) Chapter lyrics from: "Broken Things," by Ryan Adams

**CHAPTER THREE**

" _I have come to you from broken things."_

Jack numbly lowered the phone from his ear and stumbled off the porch to lean on their rental. Hunched over fisted hands, he kicked the tire. Then he kicked it again, and again. He stopped just short of punching the hood. He knew that MacGyver had been through hell, but to learn more of what that hell had actually been...

Taking a deep breath, he shakily wiped at the tears that slid free. His heart was bursting for his boy; so much so it almost felt as if he couldn't breathe. Forcing another deep breath, he clenched his fists; this time trying to calm himself down. Something felt like it was breaking, tearing inside of him. He's felt the tethers within straining ever since MacGyver was taken, but now they were fraying, stretching beyond their limits as he reached his.

~*~M~*~

When Jack finally went back inside, he was infinitely relieved to find MacGyver curled up under the covers, asleep.

"He passed out on me, so we–" Bozer started, but something on Jack's face stole the rest of his words.

"Jack?" Charlie stood as he entered the bedroom. "What is it?"

Swallowing hard, his feet walked him almost of their own accord over to his charge. His legs folded and he found himself kneeling next to him. MacGyver's bangs were in his eyes and that ridiculous dinosaur was tucked under a bruised and bandaged arm. Jack felt his eyes burn as his vision blurred. How could somebody that has been through so much, still look so... young.

He had always considered MacGyver to be a kid–despite the fact that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, and already had scars on his heart when he met him that would never completely fade. But over the years, _just_ _a kid_ had somehow transformed into _his kid._

"Jack?" Sitting on the other side of MacGyver, worry was bursting from Bozer's voice.

Jack brushed the blond bangs aside. It was his job to protect him. No, it was his _life._ His was who he was. "They f–" he swallowed, "they found where they had him." And he had failed miserably in every respect. "They're all dead. Slaughtered."

"Phoenix?" Charlie assumed.

Jack shook his head as he continued to study every line, every mark on MacGyver's face; every reminder of him not being there, not being fast enough.

"You...do you think _Mac_ –?" Bozer just couldn't imagine his friend doing that; no matter how desperate.

Jack shook his head again. "Someone blasted their way in with an automatic and ripped them apart."

"Okaaay," Bozer held up a hand; the information moving by too quickly. " _Who_ and _how many_ is _they_ , and _who_ the hell killed them all?"

"Don't know any of the _who_ yet, but there were five dead on site." _Five._ Five of them with their hands on him. Five of them hurting him, _experimenting_ on him. "They were either shot full of lead, or gutted with a knife. Or both." They got off easy.

"Okay..." Charlie moved closer to the bed, "but if... _whoever_ rescued Mac, why leave him in the middle of the woods? Unless...maybe they were abducting him from the abductors, but he managed to get away?"

Jack didn't have the answer, but he didn't think Mac got away. Not on his own. Not in the shape he was in, not with his leg. "There's more." The strained words barely made it out as he gently combed his fingers through MacGyver's hair. The few lines that were creased on his brow slowly smoothed out, and Jack wondered if he was ever offered a respite in all those weeks. He wondered if anyone had shown the most compassionate man he had ever known an ounce of comfort, of kindness.

Bozer shook his head, eyes fearful and wide. "I don't know if I wanna know."

Jack wished he didn't. It was hard enough to see the physical proof."We, uh..." he cleared his throat, and wiped at a tear that slipped free, "we don't know all of the details yet." And what he did know, he couldn't bear to repeat. Not yet. He couldn't tell them about the lab. Not yet.

Charlie and Bozer shared worried looks.

"But, uh, eventually I guess they figured that the only way they could break Mac, was by breaking his...his spirit," Jack's heart fought to keep the words in; for the truth was too much. "They took away his hope," he finally managed as another tear slid free. "They took his family."

"Jack," Charlie's voice was uncharacteristically unsteady, "what are you talking about?"

"Phoenix found dozens of pictures of us, our _team_...They were doctored to make us look like we were all dead."

Bozer's heart felt like it had just physically dropped in his chest. "Mac thought we were dead? Wait, does he, does he still think that we're dead, that we're not real?"

"There's no way to know for sure without him talking," Charlie considered softly. "He might have known they were fake." But even as he said it, he remembered the unidentified drugs in his system; drugs that could have made him more susceptible to believing their lies.

"It just..." A tear slipped freely down Jack's face, "it just kills me to think...to think that he might not have known that I was comin' for him, ya know; that I was out there, that I was _looking._ "

"Honestly, Jack, I can't imagine anyone being able to carve that truth out of his brain." But Bozer couldn't deny the uncertainty that nibbled at him.

Jack shook his head. He didn't know what to believe. There was only one thing he was sure of: "I'm still comin' for you, brother," he promised as he lightly brushed his thumb across MacGyver's temple. He was going to find him in that head of his, and he was going to bring him back into the light. "I'm still comin' for you."

~*~M~*~

Jack woke at the soft whimper, immediately on alert. He had been pacing most of the night, but had finally collapsed into a chair in the bedroom and had fallen asleep what seemed like seconds ago. "Mac?" Jack made his way to the bed as Charlie entered the room.

The whimper sounded again, but it wasn't coming from MacGyver. It was coming from Bozer. Jack couldn't blame him. He had enough of his own nightmares. Reaching across the blond, he sat on the edge of the bed and lightly squeezed the other man's shoulder. "Boze, wake up, man. We're all okay here."

Bozer startled awake and looked around until his panic-filled eyes landed on MacGyver, then Jack. Exhaling, he washed a hand down his face. "I'm never sleeping again," he said, dropping his hand onto his stomach.

Before Jack could respond, another sound had him looking back down at MacGyver.

Bozer frowned. "What?"

"I thought–"

" _No."_

Bozer sat up.

"Mac?" Jack squeezed his too-thin shoulder. "Mac, buddy, wake up."

"No."

"Mac–"

"No!" The hoarse cry grew louder. "No!" MacGyver started writhing and kicking and pushing at Jack. "S-stop!"

"Mac!" Jack cupped the side of his face. "Mac, wake up! You're safe." He tried to keep his voice calm, steady. He was failing. "You're safe, hoss."

"Jack!" He pushed at him, even as he cried for him, cried and coughed from forcing his abused vocal cords. "J-Jack!"

"I'm here," Jack choked out, desperate to get through to him, desperate to save him from the hell that he couldn't save him from before. "I'm here, Mac. Just open your eyes, okay?" he pleaded, pulling him up and pressing their foreheads together. "Just open your eyes, bud."

Making a sound born from anguish and pain, MacGyver continued to struggle against Jack; until finally his Overwatch's words cut through the nightmare and he woke, and let Jack pull him fully into his arms."It's really me, man. I'm here. I'm okay. You're okay. We're all okay." Jack rubbed a hand across his back, wishing...wishing so many things.

The fingers of MacGyver's good hand gripped Jack's shirt firmly as he blinked the nightmares and tears away. When his breathing returned to normal, Jack relaxed his arms in the slightest, but MacGyver was quick to hold on even tighter. "Okay, all right, no hurry, brother." Jack palmed the back of his head. "You just let me know when you're ready, all right? You just let me know."

Bozer's wide eyes met his over MacGyver. "Does this mean he can talk now?"

Jack shook his head. He didn't think it was that easy. "How's he lookin'?"

"He's–" Bozer had to take a deep breath to steady himself. His best friend looked like every last ounce of energy and hope had been drained from his body, like he had been gutted of all things not born of pain. "He...I think...is it possible that he's broken even more now?" Voice dripping with concern, his eyes darted back and forth between Jack and Charlie.

"He's just shook up, that's all." Though Jack wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince.

"But...why, if he can talk, isn't he talking to us?"

"It's called selective mutism," Charlie informed softly. Elbows on his knees, his hands were clasped together tightly. He was sitting on the chair Jack had been sleeping on. "Mac can physically speak, but something in his conscious mind is preventing him."

"Like what?" Bozer didn't mean to snap, but he was worried and he just didn't understand. "It's us. He's safe now."

"It's all right, Boze. It's nothing we didn't already suspect." Jack continued to rub a hand up and down MacGyver's back. "Like Bozer said, you're safe now, Mac. You are. And we're here, we're okay," he reminded him, "and we're all waiting for you, homie. Whenever you're ready, we'll listen."

Blinking sluggishly, head on his shoulder, MacGyver just let Jack rock him.

It was too much for Bozer to witness, to bear. Tears and helplessness flooding his eyes, he shook his head and left the room. Jack looked to Charlie, who nodded and went after him.

~*~M~*~

Standing on the large porch in his socks, Bozer heaved in deep breaths. It was late, really late and he was grateful that the place was so secluded.

"He's fighting, you know."

Bozer's throat was so tight it took him a moment to speak. "That's the thing about Mac, he never gives up."

"Yet, you're afraid he already has."

A silent, but heavy tear slid down Bozer's cheek. He wasn't wrong. But he wasn't entirely right either. "It's just...I've known Mac nearly our entire lives and I've never–" Words lodging in his throat again, he swallowed hard. "I've never seen that...that look in his eyes." As if the raw pain and abject fear wasn't enough; the absolute hopelessness that followed... Bozer shook his head. "It scares me, man. I don't...I don't know what to do for him. And I'm afrai–" His breath caught. "I'm afraid he'll never get better. Because if MacGyver, King of Improvising who has a tool for everything, or will make one, can't fix himself...then who the hell am I to help him?"

"His friend."

Bozer closed his eyes. Hot tears rolled down his face. He's always been protective of MacGyver–since the moment he met him. Odd, considering how resourceful the guy turned out to be, but Bozer felt way out of his league here and woefully inadequate.

Crossing his arms against his chest, Charlie leaned against the porch railing and looked out across the moonlit lake. But that wasn't what he was seeing. He was seeing a younger MacGyver–after Pena's death and before he met Jack. "I admit, I've seen Mac barely holding on by a string before, but never...never like this."

"He could really use some strings right about now."

"That's just it, Bozer," he returned thoughtfully, " _we're_ those strings, aren't we? We're a direct line to what he's got in here." Charlie tapped his chest and looked over at him. "Especially you and Jack."

Bozer's gaze dropped. "Have you seen men come back from...from where Mac is?"

"I've met some lost soldiers," he considered quietly, "but none personally that were in the same place as Mac. He might seem like he's super human sometimes, Bozer, but he's just flesh and blood like the rest of us." Worry furrowing his brow, Charlie exhaled. "The hard truth is; we've likely only scratched the surface of what Mac has gone through. He may never again be the man that you used to know, Bozer. But that doesn't mean he's no longer your boy."

Face grim, Bozer nodded and looked back out towards the lake. "I don't know exactly what I'll do if Mac is never Mac again..." He took a deep breath before letting it out, "...but I do know one thing: I'm not going anywhere. No matter what." If the only comfort he could bring him was a stuffed animal and waffles, then so be it.

~*~M~*~

When they went back inside, Jack was lying with MacGyver on the bed. To Bozer's surprise, MacGyver wasn't sleeping, or even still hiding against Jack. Tucked against his side, though his eyes were red-rimmed, he was calmly fingering Jack's leather cuff as he read to him aloud the book Bozer had picked up.

"–and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it." Jack paused and looked down at MacGyver, but their friend was just patiently waiting for him to continue. So, he did.

" _The Hobbit_?" Charlie asked Bozer quietly.

Bozer nodded. "It's one of Mac's favorites. So is _The Principles of Quantum Mechanics,_ but I figured at least we'll be able to understand what we're reading with this one"

"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me!"

Bozer and Charlie both softly guffawed at Jack's high-pitched Bilbo voice. MacGyver looked amused as well; watching Jack instead of the book now. Bozer could almost make out a dimple in his cheek. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I know I said Mac wasn't a kid," Charlie admitted softly, "but damn if he doesn't look like one right now."

"Yeah," Bozer returned just as quietly. And he had to admit; in addition to Jack being a bad ass best friend and helicopter parent...he would have made an excellent father, too.

~*~M~*~

With Sir Alexander Bones under one arm and his head on Bozer's shoulder, MacGyver sat curled into himself as much as his injuries allowed; his left leg stretched out across the coffee table. He had slept fairly well through the rest of the night plastered against Jack, and was fingering Bozer's sleeve as he watched him try to solve the Rubik's cube. Every time Bozer tried to rip a sticker off to move it, MacGyver would pull his hand away. "I see your strong sense of morality is working just fine."

"What's he doin'?" Jack inquired, walking through the livingroom with a loaded laundry basket. Domestic Jack was in full swing.

"He won't let me cheat." Bozer made sure to pout dramatically.

"I _knew_ it was you movin' all the stickers on the cube at home!"

"Oh, please, like you haven't moved them, too." Bozer frowned. "Probably why they keep fallin' off now."

MacGyver coughed deeply a few times, drawing their attention. He still had some congestion in his chest. Jack had just given him a treatment before he woke, and he was supposed to get another treatment at the doctor's later, too.

"How about we get the rest of this in you, hoss?" Jack abandoned the laundry basket and picked up the small cup of pudding they had put MacGyver's pills in. He seemed to like the pudding better–as long as Jack ate some first, but wouldn't tolerate more than a spoon, or two at a time. Scooping up some pudding and the last pill, Jack held the spoon out to him. As he had with the last few doses, after initial hesitation, MacGyver brought an unsteady arm up and dropped it over Jack's wrist, then guided his hand and the spoon to his mouth. "Way to go, bud. That's it for the A.M. pills." He shared a relieved look with Bozer.

"How do we buy stock in pudding?" Bozer asked, half serious.

"I don't know, but can we at least get a larger variety of flavors, man? Vanilla is boring." After all, he had to eat it too.

Charlie came in the door then. "Parameter is clear."

"We're in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think you need to keep checking it?" Bozer asked, somewhat nervously.

"Gives me something to do," Charlie replied easily. MacGyver still hadn't warmed up to him.

Scratching a hand through his hair, MacGyver made the blond strands even more unruly.

"Dude, we have _got_ to wash that. And you," Bozer added, crinkling his nose. He then sniffed his own armpit and frowned.

"Yeah, I gotta change his bandages, too." Jack was not looking forward to it, or getting him cleaned up. He'd been putting it all off since they woke.

"All right, I'll give you a hand." Bozer had meant what he had said; he would help. He wouldn't bail this time.

"Actually," Jack patted his stomach, "I was wondering what's for breakfast."

~*~M~*~

She stood before the four agency heads on the screen, fuming so hard on the inside she'd be surprised if she wasn't smoking.

" _We need guarantees that our agents are safe,"_ the CIA director insisted.

"As I've already stated, this matter is being handled internally and _if_ , and I stress _**if**_ we discover that any Intel has been compromised relating to any of your agencies then you will be immediately notified."

" _I'd feel better if one of my agents could interview–"_

"You mean _interrogate,"_ Matty corrected matter-of-fact. "And let me make myself clear; the only way any of you are getting anywhere near my agent is _over my dead body._ "

There was a cacophony of protests before Matilda cut the feed. Taking a deep breath, she willed the tears to stay where she had buried them, but they were becoming too much for her heart to contain again. That's what happens when your agents become family. That's what happens when you watch hours of footage of them being tortured. She could have other agents watch the video logs MacGyver's abductors had kept, but she couldn't do that to him. He wouldn't want anyone seeing him being tortured and experimented on. He wouldn't want anyone to hear his cries of pain. He wouldn't want anyone to hear his cries for Jack.

Closing her eyes, tears slid free. They weren't the first and they wouldn't be the last.

~*~M~*~

Quickly wrapping a towel around his waist, Jack supported MacGyver over to the toilet where he dropped heavily down onto the lid. Immediately, MacGyver grabbed Sir Alexander Bones off the sink and hugged it against his chest with a whine deep in the back of his throat. Jack grimaced at the sound, and because he was pressing against the wounds that were peppered across his torso: burns, bruises, abrasions, various sized lacerations–all meant to do one thing: hurt. The kid's pain tolerance had always been high, but Jack suspected, _feared,_ it was dangerously so now. "Come on, now, buddy, you're all right," he soothed. Crouching in front of him, he gently rubbed a big fluffy towel over the side of his wet head.

Holding the dinosaur tightly, MacGyver continued to shake.

"Listen to the sound of my voice, Mac," Jack encouraged as he carefully, tenderly dried him off; trying to bring him back to the present. He had handled getting cleaned up better than Jack had expected he would...but not by much. To be honest, Jack hadn't handled it too well, either. Seeing him like that...terrified and with all of those wounds and scars covering him...

What exactly they had done to him, what that lab was for, Jack could only agonizingly guess. Matty was being tightlipped, telling him they hadn't learned much yet. She was lying, but God help him, he was too afraid to press. Every time he tried, tried to do his job as protector and helicopter parent; needing to know everything about his boy...he felt the tethers keeping him together stretch and twist and strain painfully in his chest, stealing his breath. He was being a coward, in the face of unfathomable courage.

Trembling and losing what little color he had, MacGyver had made sounds of distress the entire time Jack was trying to get him clean. At one point Jack had turned off the water and decided he could just get dry baths for the rest of eternity; nothing was worth seeing him so scared. But then hugging his knee to his chest in the tub, MacGyver started awkwardly, shakily rubbing a hand through his hair–as if trying to wash it. Terrified. Stubborn. And braver than Jack could ever hope to be.

Little by little, MacGyver's taut muscles and shoulders began to relax under Jack's ministrations. The former Delta lightly cupped the side of his neck and slid his thumb across the stubble on his cheek. "You with me, bud?" To his surprise MacGyver hummed. Not once, but twice; both sounding miserable and drawn out like he was trying to tell him something, tell him of his pain. Tears filled Jack's eyes. "I know, kid." The ache he carried for him bled out into his voice, "I know." He brushed a hand through his wet hair. "But hey, Jack's here, all right? I'm going to keep you safe, Mac. I swear to God, no one will ever hurt you again."

MacGyver heaved a deep, miserable sigh and hugged Sir Alexander Bones closer.

~*~M~*~

His wounds were cleaned and his bandages changed, but Jack's heart felt a little more bruised. MacGyver didn't whimper or squirm while he applied ointment and fresh bandages like he had at the hospital. Instead, he had just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, and honestly Jack wasn't sure which was worse.

Helping him sit on the bed, he slipped a t-shirt over MacGyver's head and then guided his hand through the sleeve. He patiently waited for him to switch Bones over to his other arm before guiding the other through. "I don't know where Bozer got those sweat pants, but I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little jealous." There were soft as hell.

MacGyver looked down and slid his palm across the material over his thigh, as Jack knelt and started putting his socks on for him.

Jack grinned, glad to see that he was coming back around. "I wonder if it's like that alpeekachu hair, or something." He was more than a little disappointed, though when MacGyver didn't roll his eyes, or automatically correct him. "All right." Sighing, Jack patted his knee and was about to stand when he noticed MacGyver looking at him, _really_ looking at him. Though it was unlikely, Jack was still hoping he would just ...snap out of it and tell him to stop hovering, already. "Mac?"

Dropping his gaze, MacGyver looked down at the stuffed dinosaur he held. The corner of his mouth quirked to the side, revealing a dimple that Jack had seen countless times when he was contemplating something. He didn't expect what happened next: pulling Bones away from his own chest, MacGyver pressed it against Jack's.

Jack furrowed his brow. "Don't you want it anymore, bud?"

MacGyver's face pinched like he was trying to work out a puzzle. He pulled the stuffed animal back against his own chest, and after a moment's hesitation, he tapped it there.

Heart heavy, Jack shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not followin,' hoss," he admitted regrettably." Usually he could read Mac like a book. It pained him that he didn't understand.

MacGyver placed Bones back against Jack's chest and tapped his own chest twice with a loose fist. He was definitely trying to tell Jack something, which was huge. He wasn't just reacting, he was trying to communicate in a way he hadn't before. "What is it, Mac?" Jack barely breathed, barely whispered, so desperate to understand.

There was a knock on the door jam and they both jumped. MacGyver pulled away, back into himself, and exhaling Jack ducked his head.

"Sorry," Charlie noticed their reaction. "I was just checking in to see if you guys needed any help."

Jack scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "We're good, man, thanks."

"All right, well..." he hesitated, "Bozer said breakfast is about ready."

Jack nodded as he looked back up at MacGyver–who had Sir Alexander Bones held against his chest with both arms... and a lost look back in his eyes.

~*~M~*~

"I'm tellin' ya, it's not right. There _have got_ to be some boundaries."

Settling onto a stool at the kitchen counter, Jack pulled a bowl of strawberries closer to him. He needed a distraction from his thoughts, and he needed a good one. "What's he going on about?"

"Spices," Charlie supplied, leaning on the counter. "I think."

"Listen, I'm just sayin', some secrets should be allowed to remain _secret_." Bozer was opening and closing cupboard doors as he searched for what he needed. There was a stack of waffles on a plate and another cooking in a waffle maker...that Jack never imagined his Delta friend owning. Still feeling clueless as to why Bozer was so riled up, Jack looked to Charlie before reaching over the strawberries for a piece of bacon.

"Per Matty, your friend stocked the cupboards..apparently a little too well," Charlie informed him with an amused grin.

Jack's eyes widened. He turned back to Bozer. "Oh my God, she knows your super secret recipe for–"

"Everything!" Bozer exclaimed. "My pastrami, my waffles...I mean, these are not your everyday McCormick's, people."

Jack and Charlie chuckled.

"Come on," Charlie grabbed a strawberry, "are you really surprised?"

"Yeah, Boze, it's Matty."

Bozer grumbled under his breath. "It's not right. Some things are sacred, man. It's not right."

"Well, think of it this way; now Mac can experience your good cookin' the way he's meant to."

"Yeah, and I've never had this pastrami you're always going on about," Charlie added. "Better the real deal than some cheap imitation."

Bozer's ire was dying out. "Fine, but I still feel violated," he muttered. "And the pastrami will have to wait until tomorrow night without our Mac'd-up grill. I got a meatloaf planned for tonight."

"Fair enough." Jack spun himself slightly on the stool to see what MacGyver was up to. Exhausted from the shower, Jack had tried to get him to lay down, but he refused. So instead, he had helped him to the couch and just placed a bunch of stuff on the coffee table and cushions next to him: random knickknacks, dominos, the Rubik's cube, paper clips, a few Ninja turtles (his Delta buddy had kids); anything to keep his fingers busy.

"What's he doin'?" Bozer asked. Sir Alexander Bones tucked up under his chin, MacGyver's fingers were lightly skimming over everything Jack had put in his reach.

He was doing exactly what Jack had hoped for. "Self-soothing. Even when he's not himself, he's who he is; keepin' his fingers busy relaxes him."

"I'm a little concerned at how attached he's gettin' to that thing," Bozer admitted.

"Tell me about it, I had to convince him not to take it in the bath with him." Jack sighed. "But honestly man, I don't care if it's a Tella tubby or a binky blanket; if it brings him comfort, then so be it."

Bozer nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't their old Mac. This was post-hell Mac. This was Mac in pieces; pieces that a stuffed animal just happened to help keep together. "But if we're really going to call it Sir Alexander Bones, I feel like it needs a mustache and top hat."

"I'm gonna be honest," Charlie reached for another strawberry, "I may need to see that."

"Yeah, me too, Boze. Give that dino a makeover STAT."

"All right, I'll see what I can come up with." He slid a frying pan onto the stove. " _Later_." Today he was stress baking.

~*~M~*~

Combing his fingers through the blond hair, Bozer tried to tame it while MacGyver finally, though listlessly ate his scrambled eggs with his head on Jack's shoulder. He had shown little interest in eating breakfast at first, even with Jack's encouragement–who suspected that he was still shook up from the shower and bandage change. "Seriously, Jack did you even try to brush this?"

"Hey, just be happy it's washed." He smirked when MacGyver tried to bat Bozer's hand away in a classic MacGyver move. "Maybe we'll see how he feels about a shave tomorrow." Jack didn't want to overwhelm him too much after the shower. "Whatdya think, Mac?"

MacGyver didn't appear to have heard him at first, or perhaps was just in his own world as he often seemed to be, but then his misshapen fingers absently ghosted over the stubble on his face, leaving a few pieces of egg that he didn't seem to notice.

Shaking his head with a fond grin, Jack took a napkin and wiped them off.

~*~M~*~

Opening the door, Matty turned on the light and gave Riley a sympathetic frown.

"How'd you find me?" The hacker pulled her knees in closer to her chest.

"Took a page out of your book." Matty stepped into the large storage closet and closed the door behind her. "I pinged your phone."

Riley nodded and took a deep breath before exhaling. "Sorry, I just...really had to ugly cry, ya know?" She brushed her hand across remnants of tears.

Swallowing hard, Matty nodded. "Yeah." She understood more than she cared to admit.

"We–with what we do, we see a lot of ugly things," Riley started, "and you learn to deal, to push that ugly out of your mind and focus on all the good you're doing, but–" Her words choked off as she began to cry again, as she let what happened to Mac back into her thoughts, "but–"

"–but when that ugly is done to someone you love," Matty continued sagely, her own voice unsteady with the truth, "it's infinitely more impossible to deal, or think of anything else."

Riley looked up at her, brown eyes brimming with tears and heartache.

~*~M~*~

"You did warn them to make sure nobody wears white coats while we're there, right?" Matty had confirmed that one of the monsters who had tortured MacGyver always wore a white lab coat.

"Yes, for the nth time, Boze. I was promised no white coats." Jack was MacGyver's crutch as he helped him across the porch. His hip wasn't much better than it was when he arrived at the hospital, but his eyes were taking in more. His curiosity, more than anything, brought Jack comfort. "Nice lookin' lake, huh, Mac? Maybe we can do some fishin' later."

"I did find some poles while I was checking the place out," Charlie stated as he locked the door behind everyone.

"How are you at scaling fish, Boze?"

"Uh, usually I leave that particular task to Mac." He stopped behind Jack and Mac, who had come to a halt at the steps. "What is it?"

Jack shook his head. "He just stopped."

Charlie came up behind them. "Maybe it's his hip."

"Come on, Mac, it's just two steps. I'll help you, buddy." Jack moved to do just that, but MacGyver's breathing sped up and he looked at Jack with panic in his eyes. "Okay, not the hip." When MacGyver's wide eyes dropped back to the steps, Jack hooked his finger under his chin. "Hey, Mac, look at me, all right. Eyes on me."

"He went up the steps without any issues last night," Bozer reminded.

MacGyver looked so damn scared and sad. But even worse, he looked betrayed and tried to pull away. Jack felt like he'd just been gutted. "Hey, come on, now. We're just going for a ride to get you checked out." They've all decided not to say the word 'doctor,' unsure how he would react."Then we'll come back here to the cabin and let Bozer feed us all night."

Still looking distraught, MacGyver opened his mouth, but just as Jack thought he was going to speak, he squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed his head as if in pain.

"Whoa, hey," Catching him as his legs gave out, Jack lowered him to the porch. "Mac? Mac, what is it?"

"What's wrong?" Bozer's knees hit the wood next to them.

MacGyver started to seize.

"Mac?" Jack held him loosely in his arms. "Mac!"

Entire body ridged, jaw clenched, MacGyver's head strained backwards as he made an awful keening sound in the back of his throat.

Helplessness ripped through each of them as they could only stand by and watch.

"Jack–"

Jack looked to Charlie at his warning tone, then followed his line of sight. Blood was pooling across MacGyver's center. "Damn it, he's poppin' stitches." Grimacing, Jack gently swept a hand across MacGyver's bangs. "Hang in there, kid. You're doing good. Hang in there."

It lasted just over a minute, but they all felt almost as drained as MacGyver looked when his body started to relax and his eyes fluttered opened.

"Hey, buddy, we're here." Jack's voice trembled as he slid his thumb across the tears on MacGyver's pale face. "You had a seizure. But you're all right, you're all right."

Bozer squeezed MacGyver's shoulder. "Just take your time, Mac," he told him when it was clear that he was having trouble coming around.

Jack adjusted his hold on him, pulling him up closer to hug against his chest. "You heard the man, hoss. We're all safe and we're all here."

Charlie knelt closer and pressed a handkerchief against MacGyver's now opened wound.

"Mac?" Jack lightly brushed his thumb over MacGyver's temple. "Can you here me, bud?"

MacGyver's eyes were unfocused, but his face turned towards Jack's voice...just before he lost consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for all the reviews, kudos and interest!  
> Chapter lyrics from "Not Alone," by Red.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

" _I am with you. I will carry you through it all."_

It took twenty-two minutes to get to town. MacGyver was either completely out, or out-of-it the entire time. Calling the doctor on the way, they were told to bring him in around back where they were connected to the VA hospital. Jack was surprised and relieved to find no one in white coats when he carried MacGyver through the hospital doors.

"I'm Doctor Mike," a man in his early forties introduced himself as he rushed towards them with a gurney and a handful of nurses. "How's his breathing?"

"Breathing is same as usual; a little congested," Bozer supplied as Jack laid MacGyver on the stretcher,"but–"

"When his eyes are open, they're not tracking anything," Charlie finished. He had driven them all in. Every time he looked in the rearview mirror where Jack was holding MacGyver, it would gut him to see that vacant look in those blue eyes.

The doctor nodded as he ordered tests and the medical team started taking vitals. "I'll take a look at his last scans. We'll see if anything new has popped up."

When nobody stopped when they went through the "Authorized Personnel Only" doors, Doctor Mike turned to them and held up a hand. "I know your friend has been through a lot. I also know he would do much better to have one of you in there with him, but I can only allow one."

"Me."

"Jack." Bozer and Charlie said simultaneously.

The doctor nodded and continued after his patient. Jack on his heels.

~*~M~*~

Sitting next to MacGyver's bed, leaning forward, hands clasped between his legs, Jack worried his thumbs. When a tear dropped onto them, he barely noticed as it slid down the back of his hand onto the floor.

MacGyver had slept through the tests, re-stitching and a check of the rest of his wounds. Mike–as he insisted on being called, told him that he should be waking up soon, but Jack still had knots in his stomach. His kid was finally out of that hell hole, but he was still suffering from it, and Jack was beginning to fear that he'd never stop.

After they had gotten MacGyver settled, he called Matty. He needed to know how to protect his boy. He needed to know how to protect him from his memories, and what exactly those memories would be. Matty told him what she felt he needed to know...and more than he could bear to hear. Still, he demanded more, even as every truth carved another piece out of him.

But Matty refused.

He argued.

She begged.

_/ "Knowing every detail won't make it better, Jack," she returned sad, but resolute. "It won't stop his pain. It won't stop yours."/_

Still, she had promised to divulge all once they were home; claiming that she was still gathering information. In the meantime, he was informed to avoid the word "professor," needles, knives and a few other things they hadn't considered; including a possible trigger from the color red, and _why_.

Jack squeezed his clasped hands together until it hurt.

He had also learned the very likely reason they should avoid stairs at all cost–particularly going down them. To get to the "lab" as Matty confirmed they called it, they had to drag MacGyver down a short flight of stairs everyday. They dragged his hurting kid, kicking and struggling everyday to a place that had robbed him of his voice...and had rendered Matty speechless.

So, when he had asked MacGyver to go down the steps...

Releasing his hands, Jack buried his tear-stained face in them. Before he got his "kids" he never knew it was possible to hurt so badly for someone else.

There was shifting on the bed, and Jack was sitting on the side of it before he realized he had moved. "Whoa, hey easy, bubba," he soothed thickly, emotions still constricting his throat. "That's to help you breathe better." He gently took the hand reaching for the nasal cannula in his.

MacGyver's eyes still weren't their normal expressive selves, but he was definitely taking more in than he was earlier. Pulling his hand out of Jack's, he tried to push himself up as he nervously took in the room. Jack had asked for the most non-hospital looking room they had–that preferably had a big window. To say he was shocked that they were not only able, but willing to accommodate would be an understatement. It was very clear now why his friend had recommended this place for his boy. Unfortunately, it wasn't making enough of a difference.

"You had a seizure, Mac," he tried to reassure, explain. "But you're okay and we're going back to the cabin as soon as you get cleared. You're not..." His words got caught for a moment, "you're not there, all right? You're safe."

But looking grief-stricken, MacGyver's breaths were coming quicker. He started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, none of that, now." Jack moved to inch closer, but froze when MacGyver flinched. "Mac... _Angus_ look at me," he ordered softly.

MacGyver's eyes continued to flit between the room and anywhere but Jack's face, but his brow pinched at the use of his first name. It was the best Jack was going to get.

"Now, I need you to listen to me," he began in his no nonsense Delta voice, hoping to stop the panic attack before it could start, hoping to head off another seizure. "My name is Jack Wyatt Dalton. I'm an Aquarius, I love Bruce Willis movies, Texas and Willie Nelson."

The lines between MacGyver's brow deepened as he listened.

"You call me Jack, Big Guy, Pal and, on occasion, some more colorful words. But mostly," Jack's eyes filled with fresh tears, as a lump suddenly formed in the back of his throat, "but mostly you call me friend."

MacGyver's breathing was starting to slow down, his shoulders relaxing. His eyes were fixed on Jack's chest now.

"I know, I _know_ that head of yours is all twisted up, man," he continued hoarsely, "and for good reason. But _I'm right here, Mac_. I'm right here. I'm alive, you're alive and I'm not going anywhere. And I think you know deep down that you're safe with me. I think you know that there's _nothing_ ," he stressed as a tear came close to breaking free, " _ **nothing**_ that I wouldn't do to protect you."

Jack watched as MacGyver visibly swallowed and slowly raised his haunted blue eyes to his.

Breath suddenly locking in his chest, now Jack was the one who couldn't find his voice.

Thankfully, it was only a single agonizing moment...before MacGyver tilted forward into his arms. Exhaling all that pent up fear, Jack held him tight. "That's it, you're all right." He closed his eyes, so relieved that he hadn't lost all of the ground he'd gained with him. "I'm here. I've got you."

Curling more into him, MacGyver held onto him with his left hand, but kept his injured right held protectively against his chest. It was the first time Jack had noticed any indication that it was bothering him.

"I see we're finally awake," Doctor Mike greeted kindly upon entering the room, completely unaware that he'd just missed Jack's heart bleeding out onto the floor.

Wiping at his wet eyes, Jack looked down at MacGyver to gauge his reaction. The doctor had a clipboard, but wasn't wearing a white coat. MacGyver regarded him warily, then turned his face into Jack's neck.

"He's a good dude, Mac," Jack assured him. "You can trust him."

"I'm Mike and I'd like to help you on your recovery, if that's okay with you."

MacGyver looked up at Jack, who nodded.

"Mind if I see how that hip and those fingers are coming along? I want to gauge the swelling and your range of motion, but _first,_ I'd like to check your eyes."

MacGyver looked uncertain, but allowed the doctor to check his eyes; though his head was pressed as far as it could go into Jack's shoulder, and Jack could feel his grip tighten where his fingers had latched onto his wristband.

"You're doing good, Mac," he encouraged.

"Reactions are still slow, but improving. Good." Doctor Mike stepped back. "When you're ready, I'd like to check your fingers. I just want to look." He held up his hands. "If I accidentally hurt you, kick Jack."

Jack grinned, but MacGyver was still looking apprehensive and wrung out. It took a five minute random conversation between Jack and the doctor about fly fishing before MacGyver hesitantly held out his hand for Mike. His breathing sped up, but he stayed still with Jack's support and let the doctor check him over.

But he had his limits.

Jack felt oddly prideful when MacGyver practically growled at Mike when he evidently took too long with his hip; at least that's what it sounded like to Jack. It was a deep guttural sound from the back of his throat. Whatever it was, it was a warning and the doctor took it as such.

"Okay, you still have some swelling in your hand and hip. I'm sure the seizure did neither any favors."

"What do you suggest?"

"Rest, ice and to figure out if the next step is surgery or physical therapy."

"You think his hand can be fixed?"

Doctor Mike took a thoughtful breath before answering. "Surgery _may_ give him back some use of his fingers. In the least, I believe it could alleviate some current and future pain."

Jack nodded. "Less pain is always good." But the possibility, the thought of him never getting back full use of his hand, never diffusing bombs, saving the world and taking Jack's phone apart one mission at time suddenly hit him in his center, suddenly sucker punched him through the thick barrier of denial and hope he'd wrapped around himself. And it rocked him.

"I can schedule a meeting with a specialist as soon as he's ready. If you're back in L.A. at that time, I can recommend a few surgeons."

Lost in spiraling thoughts, it took Jack a moment to catch up. He cleared his throat and blinked through the tears. "Yeah, hey, thanks, Doc, I appreciate it." He looked down at MacGyver who appeared to be falling asleep. Coughing deeply, he snuggled more into Jack's chest.

"Hey, hey, look who's awake...sort of," Bozer lowered his voice when he got a better look at him.

"You really gave us a scare there, Mac," Charlie told him as he followed Bozer into the room.

" _Again,"_ Bozer stressed.

MacGyver's sleepy eyes widened slightly upon seeing his dinosaur in Bozer's arms.

"I was keepin' him safe for you."

Reaching for it with his good hand, MacGyver hugged it to his chest like it was his most treasured possession. It was endearing, even while it broke their already battered hearts a little more.

"I'm adjusting his anti-seizure meds; we'll see if that helps. Try to keep his stress levels as low as possible; it sounds like that's a possible trigger for these seizures. I appreciate that that might not be easy."

"You can say that again,"Bozer muttered.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "I can prescribe him something for anxiety, if you'd like. It may make him a little nauseated for a few days."

Jack and Bozer shared a look as they considered what they should do. They felt like they had been lucky getting what they had into him so far.

"He's mostly okay, except for when something triggers him,"Bozer mused.

"Do you have something that won't make him sick?" Jack asked. They had enough trouble getting food into the kid.

"How about something that's low dose and can just be used as needed."

"Perfect."

The doctor nodded. "We'll get that breathing treatment in him, then I'd like for you to bring him back tomorrow to start some cognitive tests and therapy."

"So, he can leave?" Charlie was surprised.

"Yes, but if anything happens feel free to call me anytime. You have my cell, right, Jack?"

"That I do, sir, thank you." He reached out to shake his hand. "Appreciate ya."

"No problem. Hey, remind Deacon he still owes me a drink, or ten."

Jack grinned. "Will do."

~*~M~*~

MacGyver wasn't thrilled about the breathing treatment. It was the first time he was awake to receive one. To distract him, Bozer brought in a brain teaser puzzle he had found in the therapy room while he was snooping. The place was amazing. MacGyver would be impressed.

Sitting up tucked under Jack's arm, MacGyver manipulated the wooden pieces with one hand. He was still holding his damaged hand to his chest, along with Bones. He wouldn't tolerate ice, but had let Jack rub some Lidocaine cream on his fingers to help with the discomfort.

When MacGyver again tried to dislodge the mask he was getting the treatment through, Jack intercepted his fingers. "Come on, now, Mac. I told you, this is to help you to stop sounding like a ninety-year old who smoked all of his life."

Bozer made a face, partially amused. "I dunno, I don't think he sounds _that_ bad."

"You don't sleep with him practically on top of you all night," Jack returned smoothly, again intercepting MacGyver's hand. "Come on, man, you need these bronchoroids to breathe better."

"Okay," Charlie piped up from the seat he was occupying in the corner of the room, "even I know that was butchered, Jack."

Apparently so did MacGyver, because he stopped fussing and was looking up at him with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. Mac; Mac before the mine, before that hell hole. Jack felt like he was looking his past in the face, and tears unexpectedly filled his eyes. He wished more than anything that MacGyver would correct him, and realized he was holding his breath waiting for him to do just that.

"Jack?" He blinked and looked over at Bozer's gentle query. "You all right?"

Clearing his throat and blinking back the tears, Jack nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. He just–"

"Really looked like his old self there for a moment," Charlie voiced sadly.

"Yeah."

MacGyver had gone back to manipulating the puzzle in his lap, but he wasn't showing much interest in it. Kissing the top of his head, Jack held him a little closer. There was a time when MacGyver would have rolled his eyes and pushed him away for being such a cuddly worry-wart. These days, he not only welcomed the tactile comfort, he sought it. Jack loved MacGyver no matter what shape he was in, but sometimes it was hard not to grieve for the man his partner once was.

~*~M~*~

Bozer helped get MacGyver settled into bed while Jack got his meds. "All right," he said quietly as he turned down the bed with one hand, "let's get you snug as a bug in a rug."

Lying down, MacGyver immediately curled up and pulled Sir Alexander Bones in against his chest. "You hurtin', Mac?" Untying his shoes, Bozer gently eased them off his feet. MacGyver continued to lay there, holding the stuffed animal. The way he held Bones...sometimes Bozer wasn't sure if the dinosaur made him feel safe, or if he were protecting it.

One thing was for sure, though; he looked positively miserable. Bozer shook his head. "I wish you would talk to me, man," he admitted softly. "Tell me how to get that look off your face. Tell me how to help you."

MacGyver blinked sluggishly, but otherwise didn't respond.

Sighing, Bozer walked around to the other side of the bed and laid down facing him. His own body ached with an exhaustion that went deep."Don't worry, if anything hurts, Jack will fix it." That was one of Jack's superpowers.

"You know when we were kids, you used to get bad headaches. Personally, I think it was from trying to cram too much into that head of yours." Ultimately, Bozer knew it happened when he was feeling overwhelmed. "I made you a dark, quiet place in my closet that I stuffed with pillows and beanbags. Remember? You'd go in there and sleep, or just sit for awhile and when you'd come out, you'd feel better." If only gentle places and good intentions could cure him now. If only anything could.

Vision suddenly blurring, "I still see you, Mac," Bozer's throat grew painfully tight as he confessed, "it took me awhile because I was afraid, afraid for you...but I see you, man. I do. And I'm not going anywhere, all right? I promise. I'll be here, by your side, no matter what."

MacGyver's eyes met his and Bozer swore there was something there that wasn't there before. With a look down at the stuffed animal tucked against his chest, MacGyver then slid it across the bed to him.

~*~M~*~

MacGyver refused to eat dinner, despite Jack eating it first. And had glued himself to Jack's side as soon as he woke. Sitting at the table with his head on his Overwatch's shoulder he looked exhausted and a million miles away.

"Mike said his appetite might be off because of the seizure," Bozer warned. Still, he didn't eat lunch either, having slept through it.

Jack gave up on trying to get him to eat and instead was trying to get him to drink some of his protein shake. But he wouldn't drink, either. Every time Jack tried, he just turned his face into Jack's shoulder; who found his own appetite waning.

"Doc recommend a therapist?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, seems like an entire alphabet of them." Physical, Occupational and Speech to name a few.

"Psychologist?"

"Yeah, but what's that gonna do?" Bozer sat back from his own plate. "He won't even talk."

"No, but there are specialist for this kind of trauma; they'll know how to speak to him, how to help."

Jack looked to Bozer with Doctor Rogers' warning in his ear. If MacGyver was himself right now he'd hate it, but Jack couldn't help but think that it might be a good idea. Nodding, Bozer reluctantly agreed. "All right, I'll set something up."

Charlie nodded and looked down at his plate. "I gotta admit, this is probably the best meatloaf I've ever had."

"Wait until you have the pistrami, man."

"You sure you don't want something, Mac?" Bozer prodded gently. "I can heat up some chicken broth for you." He was completely ignoring the bland as hell chicken and rice he had made for him.

Forehead pressed into Jack's shoulder, MacGyver surprised them all when he shook his head.

"Does anyone get the feeling that sometimes Mac is just below the surface–?"

"–but his reach is just short of climbing all the way out?" Jack looked to Bozer. "Yeah, all the time."

Bozer turned to Charlie. "Then I guess it's a good thing he has us for strings." Hopefully they could keep him from falling too far from their reach.

~*~M~*~

They had finally gotten MacGyver to eat some Goldfish and pudding with his pills, but he had a rough night. Nightmares woke him up every hour. He refused to take the pill Doctor Mike prescribed for anxiety, and anything they could mask it in. He was scared, and the only thing that calmed him was hiding his face against Jack and holding on.

Jack didn't mind, even though he wasn't sure how the kid could breathe that way. He'd be the Kanga to his Roo anytime if that's what it took to get him some rest, to bring him an ounce of comfort. Jack would even sleep in the corner of the room with him on the floor, with all the lights on and the window wide open; if that's what it took to get him to sleep. And that's exactly what he did.

Finished with a quick shower, Jack walked into an empty bedroom and froze. "Mac?" His heart rate immediately climbed. Hurrying out into the livingroom, he found it also empty. "Mac!" Just as he was about to go into full blown Delta panic mode, Bozer popped his head up from behind the kitchen counter.

"Jack?" He stood with a saucepan. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Mac?"

"He's outside with–"

Jack was to the door before he realized his feet were moving. He found MacGyver and Charlie on the swing, both looking as content as could be in the early morning sun. He released a heavy breath and placed a hand over his chest. "Man, don't **do** that to me."

Charlie looked up at him, brow furrowed with concern. "Sorry, Jack I got the feeling he wanted some fresh air. It's a beautiful morning."

Jack dropped himself into a seat next to the swing and waved him off. He knew he was being ridiculous. Maybe. But with what he's learned and with MacGyver having such a rough night, he guessed his own anxiety was back up a few notches–despite knowing that Charlie had been sitting with him in case he woke. "He okay?"

"Actually, he was a little alarmed when he couldn't find you." Charlie's foot was ever-so-slightly rocking them. Jack wondered if he even realized he was doing it. "But I convinced him that you were okay and that you'd be out in a flash."

Leaning against Charlie, MacGyver was focused completely on the Rubik's cube Charlie held in his hand for him; seemingly oblivious to Jack and his drama. It was oddly comforting. MacGyver always had a habit of tuning everything out when he was deep in concentration.

Jack washed a hand down his face. He was still on edge, heart pounding loudly in his ears, tethers in his chest straining.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."He dropped his arm into his lap, but not before pressing his fingers against the pain in his chest. He tried to focus on MacGyver, focus on the fact that he was there. He was home, so to speak. He gave Charlie a questioning look, though, when he noticed him holding onto Sir Alexander Bones. "Looks like our boy made up with you."

Charlie shrugged the shoulder MacGyver wasn't leaning on. "He just gave me this look...like he wanted me to know something and handed me this thing. I figured it was for safe keeping while he worked on his puzzle."

They both looked down at it then; watching as MacGyver turned it in Charlie's grip then painstakingly rotated the middle row. He still wasn't using his right hand.

"Son of a bitch," Charlie grinned. He'd been keeping an eye on the perimeter, old habits, and just released and tightened his fingers on MacGyver's cues. Almost like old times. He hadn't been paying attention to his progress, or honestly even expected much. The kid continued to exceed his expectations, as he had since he met him.

Jack's smile was slower to come. MacGyver had solved the cube, but only one side. He knew it was still an accomplishment, a huge one considering his state, but...

Charlie must have noticed his hesitation. "Jack, focus on what he can do now, not what he did before," he stressed. "Not only did he solve one side, he was able to guide my hand–use it as a tool to help him. It shows a level of cognitive function and problem solving that he hasn't showed us since he was found."

Clearing his throat and the emotions choking him up, Jack nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're right." He pinched back the tears in his eyes before they could fall. Just as he pushed back the doubts that had been rising in his heart before they could take hold.

~*~M~*~

"Where the hell is the 'R' on this thing?" Jack griped as he tried to follow the directions he was being given over the phone. The keyboard was falling apart; more than a few letters missing, or loose. He had found one on the coffee table and one under the desk by the wall, but two were still MIA. And they were all sticky. Sticky, sticky. Kids.

He tapped where there was a missing key and hoped for the best. "I don't know, Ri, this thing looks pretty old." He glanced up at the computer camera sitting atop the desktop monitor. He didn't know much, but he was pretty sure those things were built into the computers nowadays.

"Just a few more key strokes and I'll have control," she assured him. "I'll make it work."

"All right, you know I trust you." He pushed the last key and could hear Riley's fingers immediately start dancing across the keys on her end. A bunch of stuff moved on his screen, then he was looking at her. "Hey, sweetheart!" He beamed. "Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Likewise. It feels like forever since you guys ran outta here to get Mac. How is he?" She called every day, every chance she got, but still felt like she didn't know enough about how he truly was. She hated not being there with him.

Jack noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hey, he's gonna be all right," he promised her. "He solved part of a Rubik's cube this morning. He's in there, I'm tellin' you, Ri." _That_ he believed with all of his heart.

She nodded, but could see the uncertainty, the worry in his own eyes. "Where is he?" She scanned the livingroom behind him.

"He'll be right in. He and Charlie are enjoying some fresh air on the porch, but I think Bozer just rang the breakfast bell."

"Okay, well, I guess I'd better tell you something first."

"What's that?"

"I thought it was just a hiccup, and then I forgot about it...until last night. It was the first opportunity I had to run some–"

"Ri, it's okay, just tell me what you found."

She took a breath. "The search program I created didn't alert us to Mac being in that hospital."

Jack made a face."Well, yeah, it did, that's how we knew where he was."

"No...I mean, yes, it did, but not on it's own. I got another alert hours after you guys got there. I'm assuming now that it was when everything got uploaded into their databases. Again, I didn't think anything of it at the time, but–"

"What are you saying, Ri?"

"I'm saying that _someone_ triggered the alert before they had even finished processing Mac's admittance."

"So, someone wanted us to find Mac in that hospital, and didn't want to wait for them to finish all of their boopity-boops?"

"Yes, someone that clearly knew we were looking for him."

"Who?"

"I'm still working on that. Maybe it was whoever rescued him."

"Then why not take him to the hospital themselves, instead of leaving him in the damn woods, or, I dunno, _call us up_ and tell us that they found our missing boy?"

"I dunno, Jack." Shaking her head, she blinked back the tears that resurfaced. She had shed a lot of tears thinking of MacGyver out there cold, hurt and alone; thinking of him in that place. Matty wouldn't tell her the details, but her eyes said enough, pictures of that place said enough. Riley could easily hack in and watch the video logs herself, but she didn't think she could bear it. She also felt like she'd be betraying MacGyver's trust if she did.

"All right, well, let me know if you find out who I should thank, or punch."

She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for what was next.

"Anyone hear anything from James?"

"No, Matty has been trying to locate him, but he's still dark."

Jack nodded, then turned on the bench when the screen door squeaked open. Charlie was supporting MacGyver as they came inside. "Oh, hey, bring him over here." Jack patted the small bench he was sitting on in front of the desktop. "She won't bite none...well, unless you get something on her keyboard."

"Then she fights just plain old dirty!" Bozer bemoaned following them in. One time he got jam on her keyboard and she changed every password for every account he had. It took him days to get everything back in order. He still couldn't access his Netflix account.

MacGyver was holding Sir Alexander Bones tightly against his chest as Charlie helped him sit next to Jack. He looked up at the screen when he noticed Riley on it.

"Hey, Mac," she greeted, throat so tight she was surprised any sound came out.

"Mac, this is Riley, Ri, Riles," Jack informed him helpfully.

She felt like she was meeting him for the first time again. Except this time, he wasn't the confident, determined agent that impressed her with his lock picking skills, and so much more over the years. This time, he was meek and practically vibrating with uncertainty. And God, he was thin. "It's okay," she promised him, a river of tears close to falling, "I'm your friend, and I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

MacGyver's blue eyes studied her intensely for a few moments before he looked down at the stuffed animal he was clutching. He hummed, then held it out to her, to the screen.

There was no hope of holding back the tears now. "What's that?" She brushed a hand across her cheek.

" _That_ is Bones–"

"Sir Alexander Bones!" Bozer corrected.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Bozer got it for him. He's attached. It's a whole thing," Jack explained, gently pushing it back into MacGyver's lap. "But hey, he remembers sharing is caring, so that's good."

Though her smile was genuine, the thick tears that slid down her cheek were bursting with grief. She brushed them away. She refused to grieve for a man that wasn't dead–even if she no longer recognized him. "Well," she returned thickly, "you'd better hold onto it then, huh."

MacGyver pulled it back up to his chest, but he did so with a frown that looked borderline confused; which was fairly normal these days.

~*~M~*~

Making sure his electric razor was charged, Jack went to get MacGyver, relieved he seemed to be having a much better day than yesterday. He ate nearly a whole plate of scrambled eggs and Goldfish, and so far hadn't insisted on staying glued to Jack's side every waking moment. "Hey, has anyone seen my phone?" He couldn't exactly remember the last time he had seen it. He thought he had left it in the car, but couldn't find it there either.

"You can't use it, anyway."

"Yeah, thanks, Boze, I know that, but I'd still like to know where it is. Besides, Riley made it so I can still play some games and I have unlimited lives today on Candy Crush."

He received two matching incredulous looks.

" _You_ play Candy Crush?" Bozer raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, what of it? It's a good distraction on stake outs, man. And...for some reason, I dunno, crushing candy is oddly satisfying." He shrugged.

A thoughtful look crossed Bozer's face. "Well, I can't argue with you there."

Charlie grinned at the two as he played a game of chess by himself. "I haven't seen your phone, Jack, sorry."

Jack sighed.

MacGyver was curled up against Bozer in the corner of the couch, brow deeply furrowed as he squeezed some kind of purple, gelatinous goo in his good hand. It oozed out between his fingers. Bozer was squeezing a green glob. It looked like they had raided the kids' toy closet. "I bet I could make this stuff."

"Yeah, I think a bunch of eight-year-olds beat you to the punch, there, Boze."

Charlie chuckled. "And are making more than both of you combined on YouTube videos."

Bozer frowned as he let the goo slowly ooze through his fingers. "I may need to rethink my life choices."

Jack snorted. "Well, while you're doing that, I'm gonna see if I can get my boy here a shave." Jack lightly tapped the back of his fingers against MacGyver's shoulder. "Come on, bud, let's get you cleaned up."

~*~M~*~

MacGyver did not want his shoes on.

MacGyver needed his shoes on.

He had tolerated getting cleaned up, a bandage change and even a shave.

But shoes...shoes were apparently his limit.

"Now, Mac, come on now, be reasonable. You can't be going into town without shoes." Every time Jack tried to put them on him, MacGyver pulled his foot away. There wasn't fear in his eyes, there was defiance. "I've seen that look in his eyes before," Jack warned Bozer when he came out onto the porch to check on their progress. "It's the look he makes when he's about to defy a direct order."

Bozer snorted. "Yup, our boy has definitely made up his mind."

Jack sighed. "Mac, _please_ , Mike doesn't make house calls." He made a face. "Well, I dunno, maybe he does, but...hey, he has some new geeky toys he wants to share with you," he sing-songed. It wasn't a lie. Bozer said a lot of the stuff in one of the therapy rooms was right up MacGyver's alley.

Hugging a knee to his chest on the swing, Mac wrinkled his nose.

Jack fought back a grin. He loved these moments; moments when Mac was more...Mac and present and... _completely unreasonable_. Jack felt like he was having a conversation with him, despite him not saying a word. Just like old times.

Bozer crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded their friend. "Does he _need_ shoes?" He looked to Jack. "I mean, he has socks on."

Jack pursed his lips, noting the defiant look still on MacGyver's face. "Sounds good to me. We'll take them in case he changes his mind." He then called out behind him, "You find somethin' yet?"

"It's taken care of," Charlie came around the corner of the porch dusting off his hands, "but you owe your friend a new picnic table."

~*~M~*~

The makeshift ramp was a success. With some anti-anxiety pills finally in him, Jack's arm around is waist and encouragement from Charlie and Bozer, MacGyver made it down the ramp without having another seizure, or looking like he was being marched off to unspeakable things.

Barefoot, he now sat on a rolling stool in the therapy room of the VA hospital. After ten minutes of sticking glued to Jack's side while Doctor Mike saw to a medical emergency, he started to get curious. Using his good leg, he awkwardly moved himself around the room on the stool–tugging Jack along with his fingers curled around his leather cuff, so he could get a better look at what was on the tables.

So often, he seemed lost in himself, but not now. Jack could practically see the hamsters starting to run. "I think our boy is excited," he said with a doting grin. It reminded him of when he'd start to geek out over something, except instead of an endless string of words, he was humming softly.

"Yeah, he's practically drooling." Bozer was smiling, too.

But, he wasn't trying to solve any of the puzzles; something they all noticed, but refrained from commenting on.

~*~M~*~

"Where is he?" James MacGyver stormed into the War Room.

Matty looked up from her tablet. "Jim, where the hell have you been?" He looked horrible: thinner, paler and sporting a full beard. "I've been trying to reach y–"

"They said in the hallway, of all places, that you found him. Where is he?"

"Jack, Charlie and Bozer have him tucked away in an undisclosed location in Idaho."

"He's not in the hospital?" He looked relieved.

"No, he was released, but–"

James was already heading back out the door. "Send me the coordinates."

"Jim, wait."

He paused in the doorway.

"You can't see him looking like that."

"I want to see my son, Matilda. **Now**."

"James, you don't understand...Mac, he's not the man he was before he was taken."

The color drained from his face. "I'm well aware of the emotional and physical impact trauma can have on a–"

"He doesn't speak, Jim," she cut in gently. "He might not even know who we are. So, if there's any chance of him recognizing you, it's not like that."

Closing his eyes, James washed a hand over his mouth. When he opened his eyes, Matty could see the tears there.

"Jim–"

"Is he at all responsive?" he asked desperately.

She hesitated, but nodded. "He's...he's not catatonic, if that's what you mean."

Releasing a breath, he lowered himself into a seat and cradled his head in his hands. Guilt rolled off of him in waves. And a coldness swept over Matilda as her fears came that much closer to being verified. Fears she hadn't dared share with Jack yet. Tears filled her eyes as MacGyver's screams filled her head. "It was you."

He looked up at her; his expression going from startled, to shocked, to anguished.

~*~M~*~

"He's like a wet noodle," Bozer commenting, watching Jack get MacGyver settled onto the couch. Whatever they did at the VA hospital had exhausted him, and he was already asleep when Jack pulled a light blanket up over him.

"Boze, you mind keepin' an eye on him, I'm gonna step out for a sec."

"Of course." But he cast a worried look over at Charlie, who nodded and followed Jack outside.

"You gonna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

Jack snorted lightly. "Usually, that's my line for Mac."

Charlie leaned on the porch railing opposite him. He and Bozer had decided to give MacGyver some space during therapy and went for a walk to check out the town. When they returned, MacGyver was half asleep against Jack on the therapy mat, lightly fingering the bottom of his Overwatch's shirt; self soothing, and Jack was quiet. Very quiet. He still was.

Jack turned his head to look in where MacGyver was sleeping.

"Jack, what is it? What happened during therapy?"

"Nothin, nothin." He scratched at his arm and straightened as if trying to shake off the emotional slump he had found himself in. "He's been cleared to fly, counts are looking better, lungs are sounding better."

"Jack." Charlie didn't believe that 'nothing' had happened. "What did Mike say?"

Jack swallowed hard, his facade breaking.

~*~M~*~

She was shaking her head in denial, even though she knew it to be true, knew it from the video logs, the endless taunting. Turning away, she took a deep breath and forced down the nausea while anger and despair tore at her heart. She ordered him to get out. She couldn't bear to look at him right now, she couldn't tolerate listening to his reasoning.

"Where's my son, Matilda."

She turned to him then. Tears were bright in her eyes, but her tone was hard and unwavering. "As if I'd tell you." If she had her gun on her, she'd probably shoot him.

Her clear intent to protect MacGyver from him looked like it had stung and his squared shoulders dropped. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two hands. "This was never supposed to happen."

His anguish was clear, but Matty was carrying her own pain...and MacGyver might never recover from his. Part of her wanted to ask, _why, how_ could he create something that caused so much pain to the human body; something that ended up in the hands of men who used it on his own son. Part of her just wanted to make him suffer like MacGyver had. But she knew that neither would change a thing, neither could erase the hell her Baby Einstein had been put through.

"Forty-seven seconds," he whispered brokenly, hands clasped together under his chin. "I designed the drug to start working on the subject, start _hurting_ within forty-seven seconds of injection."

The interrogator in her won out, the part of her that needed to know all of the answers. "Who sanctioned it?" she demanded.

"No one. I made it, and only **I** was ever intended to use it."

She narrowed her eyes. "To what end?"

Hands still clasped together, he lowered them between his legs and bowed his head. "There's something you don't know about Ellen."

She didn't bother trying to hide her confusion. "Mac's mom?"

"She didn't die of cancer." Dropping the bombshell, he looked to her. "She was poisoned."

Matty searched her memory; searched for _anything_ that would have given her an iota of a clue of what he was talking about. She thought she had been read in on everything about Ellen. Apparently, she was wrong.

"When I learned the truth... in my anger, I made that drug to get information. Blood for blood. I wanted to burn it out of them. I wanted everyone and anyone responsible to suffer." He swallowed hard, looking ashamed. "I...her death changed me. I was just so, _so_ angry."

"Tell me," Matty had so many questions, but only one that mattered right now, "how the _hell_ did it get into those bastards' hands, Jim?"

He wasn't looking at her as a thick tear slid slowly down his face. "I delivered it to them."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As always, your support is so appreciated! More than I can say.  
> A/N: Chapter lyrics from Hamilton's, "It's Quiet Uptown."  
> PS. I am so sorry. Just breathe. Trust me. Breathe. (Maybe skip this chapter if you have heart issues? Kidding/Not kidding.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

" _There are moments that the words don't reach._

_There is suffering too terrible to name..."_

Heart impossibly heavy, Matty walked into Bozer's lab. She needed to speak to Jack, and she needed to do it face-to-face, but the Webcam Riley had set up would have to do. She wasn't surprised to see her in front of the computer, but when she saw her face, she quickened her steps. "Riley, what's–?"

She turned to the screen that had captivated her hacker's attention. Jack was holding a trembling MacGyver on the couch; rocking him as he murmured words of comfort. "Mac," she breathed. This was the first time she was seeing him...not in that place. "What's wrong? Is MacGyver okay?"

Riley brushed a tear from her cheek. "Bozer and I were talking and he just...he just started screaming."

Jack glanced up at the screen. "Yeah, he's all right," he said in a soothing drawl as he rubbed MacGyver's back. "Right, bud? Just a nightmare."

Head on his chest, hand gripping Jack's shirt, MacGyver sighed but otherwise didn't respond. Carding a hand through his blond hair, Jack continued to murmur softly in his ear.

Matty took a deep, albeit shaky breath. She ached to reach out and comfort him, to do more than just watch him hurt through a damn computer screen. But there was nothing she could do about that now, and there was so much more that needed to be done, that she _could_ do. She had to stay focused. She couldn't fall apart yet. Just on her way down there she had made three calls: One was to put all hands on deck to work on a treatment for her agent. The second was to ensure MacGyver would never want for anything. And the third–

"Matty, you need somethin', or–?" Jack asked, still holding his partner. Matty noticed how MacGyver kept casting looks up at him; like he was checking to make sure that Jack was really there. And despite all that he had been through, as he continued to relax in his Overwatch's arms, he began to look...content.

Throat painfully tight, Matty blinked back tears. In her line of work, knowledge was power, but sometimes...sometimes all it did...was make you feel powerless.

"Matty?" There was a thread of concern in Jack's voice now.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. "I need to speak to you, Jack. Alone."

"All right, well give me a few minutes here and call the burner. I'll step–"

"No...when you're able, call me back here, on the computer."

That got his attention. She knew he wanted to demand that she just tell him now, but after years of knowing each other, he could read her, as well as she could read him. Clenching his jaw, he nodded. "Let me just get Mac settled–"

"Matty, what's going on?" Bozer demanded, not to be left out. Charlie didn't look like he cared for the idea anymore than Bozer, but remained quiet.

"Yeah, if it's about Mac, we have the right to know, too," Riley added, turning to her.

"And you will," Matty assured. "But first I need to speak to Jack. _Please_."

They shared an uneasy look before reluctantly agreeing.

~*~M~*~

With MacGyver finally asleep, Bozer sticking to his side and Charlie getting some fresh air, Jack called Matty back on the Webcam using the instructions Riley had given him. "All right, spill," he said as soon as her face appeared on the screen.

Swallowing thickly, Matty nodded and blinked back fresh tears.

He narrowed his eyes on her, heart suddenly feeling infinitely heavier than it had a moment ago. He wasn't ready, but, to be honest, he never would be. "Tell me."

She looked down and away to gather her thoughts, her words. She was still trying to comprehend it all, but one thing she knew for certain; Jack would not take it well.

"Matil–"

"James is back."

He blinked, not expecting that. "All right, wh–?"

"Jack, I need to tell you something and I need you to stay calm and wait until I've finished."

He tilted his head, giving her a warning look to just spit it out.

"Mac's mother was DXS."

The statement felt as random as it could get, and he let it show.

"She didn't die of cancer, Jack," Matty continued. "She was murdered. Poisoned. She died in terrible pain."

Releasing a breath, Jack's shoulders fell as his already broken heart broke more for the kid. "Mac, he doesn't–?"

"No, he doesn't know."

Jack nodded, trying to process it all. He wasn't sure how it had anything to do with what they were dealing with now, but–

"When James learned the truth, and couldn't save her–" Matty paused and took an unsteady breath to gather her nerve. "He used every resource and means he had to locate those responsible. He–" She met Jack's eyes and heard MacGyver screaming in her head again, screaming in indescribable pain. "He synthesized a drug, a blood red drug to use as an interrogation tool to...to cause a significant amount of pain–"

"No." Jack was already shaking his head. " **No**. Tell me, **tell me** you're not saying what I think you're saying."

"He intended to be the only one to use it, and in fact, he never did. He captured those responsible and turned them over to the authorities. Unfortunately, he also turned over the drug."

"They use it?"

Her silence was answer enough.

"Tell me, what shape were they in afterwards?"

"Jack–"

"Tell me!"

She had done the digging. She had found out for herself. She wished she hadn't. They had suffered irreparable neurological trauma. She didn't voice that to Jack, but he knew, knew by the look on her face.

"And how much were they exposed to?"

It took Matilda a moment to find her voice. "One dose." It had been banned from use afterwards, but unfortunately, it wasn't destroyed.

Closing his eyes, elbows on his knees, Jack buried his face in his hands. MacGyver had been exposed, how many time? And for weeks.

"Jack–"

"If I see him, Matty, if he comes within _twenty miles_ of Mac..." He looked up at the screen, looked her right in the eyes.

He didn't have to say the words. "I know." He would never listen to reason. Not right now, maybe not ever. He wouldn't hear how devastated James is. And honestly, Matty wouldn't be the one to try and reason with him, for she had watched MacGyver's spirit dim as the fire burned through his veins. She had listened until his cries had turned hoarse. "There's more."

Head bowed, forearms resting on his knees, Jack shook his head dejectedly.

Still, she pressed on, because he'd want to know...even if it tore him apart further. "We traced a payment from the men, _the mercenaries_ who had Mac, back to an ex-KGB member. A real nasty guy by the name of Adrik Volkov."

As if the name alone caused him pain, Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

"You guys tangled with him awhile back, specifically MacGyver."

"He wasn't taken for Intel." His voice broke and the tethers holding him together strained ever further. He remembered the sick son of a bitch; it wasn't Intel he had wanted.

"No," her voice shook. "Mac was taken for one purpose." To be broken. For revenge. It wasn't something she had just learned. The video logs were clear in their purpose; logs that were sent daily to the same IP address in Russia. They were still trying figure out the link between Volkov and James, and how exactly the drugs got out of the government's lab and into the mercenaries hands. But the information James' was able to acquire pointed to a former CIA agent being involved–the same one he had turned the drug over to all those years ago. One thing was for certain, it wasn't a coincident that they had used James' drug on MacGyver. "Testing..." Matty took a quaking breath. "Testing drugs on him; old and new was just a bonus for them, Jack. So was any Intel they gained."

Jack stood abruptly, the bench scraping across the wooden floor. This was his boy they were talking about. This was _Mac_ ; the kid with the biggest heart and brain Jack had ever known. A primal cry bursting with grief and rage, and so much more erupted from Jack as he swung his fist through the air and hit the lamp. It flew across the room and crashed into the wall, shattering into pieces. Heaving deep breaths, he collapsed onto the arm of the couch, tears bright in his eyes.

"Jack?" Bozer hurried into the room.

"He didn't talk," he rasped, addressing Matty. It wasn't a question.

"No. Nothing I can't fix, at least," she confirmed thickly. She was past the point in the video logs where he had stopped talking. She wasn't sure if it was MacGyver's doing, the trauma, or an unexpected side effect of the drugs. But based on what she was hearing; that MacGyver can speak while he's sleeping, she wouldn't be surprised if, Mac being Mac- his greatest fear was talking; giving them potentially vital information that could hurt a fellow agent, hurt his family–so he buried his words so deeply that only his subconscious knew where to find them. And the fact that this scared him more than the unfathomable, relentless pain he endured...broke Matty in ways she didn't think was possible. That's when they started with the pictures. That's when they started trying to convince him that his family was gone. They wanted to see the fight leave his eyes, and it enraged them that it never did.

"Guys," Bozer looked rightfully alarmed. "What's going on?"

Thumbing a tear from the side of his nose, Jack stood and turned his back to them. Squaring his shoulders and placing his hands on his hips, he was trying to protect Bozer from the hopelessness creeping in, but his emotions were palpable.

Blinking back her own endless tears, "You're coming home, Bozer," Matty informed him. "Operatives are securing Volkov now, and anyone he's ever breathed the same air with," she declared. "Bring him home, Jack. It's time you bring our boy home."

~*~M~*~

Bozer raised his eyebrows when Jack started cutting the baked chicken on MacGyver's plate rather aggressively. "Uh, it's already dead, Jack. I checked." But his teasing tone fell flat.

Jack dropped the utensils onto the plate with a clang and washed a hand down his face. He was glad MacGyver had wanted to go outside again after waking, because he was still having trouble reigning in his emotions. Matty said she and James were already working with doctors and scientists out there for possible treatments, but she didn't sound too hopeful.

"Look," Bozer admitted miserably, "it's bad. _Real_ bad, but Mac's safe now and I don't know about you, but I never thought I'd breathe that sigh of relief."

Pressing his palms into the counter top, Jack bowed his head.

"We gotta...we gotta stay focused on what we _can_ _do_ for Mac, not what's been done to him." Not all that he's lost. It was the only way Bozer stood a chance at keeping it together. He had already started a list of modifications he could do to the house that might help MacGyver get around.

Bozer was right, Jack knew, but he couldn't help the way he was feeling. "Every time I don't think it can get worse, Boze..." he started dejectedly.

"I know."

Charlie hadn't taken the news much better. Thankfully, the porch railing was stronger than the lamp Jack broke. It was still debatable if his hand was. "I, uh, I was a thinking...our place is practically already yours, too...so, I was wondering if maybe you could–"

"I already asked Matty to have some of my things taken over, Boze."

Bozer nodded, too relieved to speak. He figured Jack would stay glued to MacGyver's side, but he guessed he just needed the reassurances himself. He would do whatever it took to take care of his friend, but he'd rather not do it alone.

"I'm retiring, Wilt." Jack kept his head bowed. "I'm leaving the Phoenix. Mac will need someone with him all the time, and hell if I'm gonna be pulled away from him on assignment."

Bozer nodded. "What about James?" It was a touchy subject, but if the man ended up on his doorstep anytime soon, Bozer wasn't sure what he'd do. He felt bad for him, sure; MacGyver was just a little kid when James went nuclear for revenge, and it's not like he ever even used the drug, let alone injected MacGyver with it...and he _had thought_ he put it in safe hands...but Bozer still blamed him; whether it was rational to do so, or not. Because something he made had hurt his best friend; hurt him in ways that he may never recover from.

Jack sighed and straightened. "Matty promised he'd be staying away. At least for now." She had warned them that the bastards that had MacGyver were quick to tell, quick to remind him over and over that one of the drugs they were pumping into his veins; that was causing him so much pain...was created by his own father. They had no way of knowing yet if MacGyver believed them, or even remembered. And they weren't in a hurry to find out.

The screen door opened and Charlie came in supporting MacGyver. "We thought we smelled something good."

"Well, you weren't wrong." Jack took MacGyver's plate of baked chicken and rice to his spot at the table and tried to act like he wasn't just barely holding it together. Helping him to sit, he kissed the top of MacGyver's head. MacGyver had Bones tucked under one arm and his eyes were on a Rubik's cube he held, but the corner of his mouth turned up ever-so-briefly.

And for those ever-so-brief seconds, Bozer believed everything would be okay.

~*~M~*~

Something woke him from his restless sleep. As he got up to inspect the sound, a look at his watch told Charlie that it was just after sunrise. The master bedroom that Jack and MacGyver were sharing was empty, and Bozer looked to be sleeping about as well as Charlie had in his room.

Walking down the hallway, he finally found Jack supporting their boy as they slowly made their way through the livingroom. "He all right?" Charlie quickly moved ahead of them. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch on the way and opened the door for them.

"Yeah, he just kept looking out the window and giving me those puppy eyes, so..."

Charlie knew exactly what he was talking about. He couldn't blame MacGyver; if he were a prisoner in an underground mine of pure hell for weeks, he'd probably always want to be outside in the sun, too. "He sleep okay?" he asked, holding the door for them. "I didn't hear him."

Jack canted his head to the side. "Better than usual, no screaming, but he still woke up scared as hell a few times." He lowered himself and MacGyver carefully onto the swing. MacGyver's wounds tended to make him more stiff in the morning. Taking the blanket from Charlie, he tucked it around his partner as he curled into his side. As always, Sir Alexander Bones was held securely in his arms.

Arm around MacGyver, Jack looked like he hadn't slept a wink, and his hand shook when he washed it down his face. The lines on Charlie's forehead deepened with concern. Crossing his arms, he leaned his back against the porch railing. "Jack?"

Socked toes to the floor, Jack started rocking them as he looked out at the lake. Still, it was a few minutes before he spoke. "I used to think that if I could just...if I could just _reach_ him in that big head of his, I could pull him back out and he'd be okay, you know?" His tear-filled eyes met Charlie's before looking down at the man in his arms, face pinching from the anguish he tried so hard to keep buried.

"But I guess I'm...I'm finally realizing that maybe he's not just hiding away in there." Something that had started to become clear after the tests Doctor Mike gave him yesterday, and then after learning more about that damn drug. Jack took a shaky breath as reality relentlessly crashed into his heart. "And I guess it's just really hitting me, man, that maybe...that maybe I can't..."

"Can't, what?"

"Still save him."

Oblivious to the pain around him, to the way Jack brokenly breathed out his agonizing truth, MacGyver continued to watch the trees. Taking an unsteady breath of his own, Charlie looked away, out towards the lake. Leaning on the porch railing, the worn wood bit into his palms. There had still been a large part of him too, that had hoped MacGyver would recover significantly; at least cognitively, from what he'd been through. But after hearing about what he'd been exposed to, repeatedly...

As the slight squeak of the swing's shocks joined the happy sounds of morning, Charlie had no words of comfort, or encouragement to offer, no way to ease the crushing pain of helplessness, of grief.

~*~M~*~

The morning was filled with subdued silence as they packed for exfil, but something brought Jack back out onto the porch; a feeling, one he had learned never to ignore. A light breeze rustled his clothes as his eyes canvassed the area. Outwardly, everything looked peaceful, but Jack felt anything but. Jaw tight, his fingers flexed, itching to reach for his gun.

The screen door creaked behind him as it opened. "You feel it, too." Charlie handed Jack his gun as he secured his own.

They thought they were safe there, but the hairs standing up on the back of Jack's neck told him otherwise. "Get the boys."He tightened his fingers around his weapon. "Leave everything."

~*~M~*~

With Jack taking point, eyes scanning every direction, they hurried to the SUV. Charlie carried an alarmed MacGyver, and Bozer brought up the rear, phone pressed to his ear.

"Bozer, get in the passenger seat," Jack ordered as he got in the back and took MacGyver from Charlie. "There's another gun in the glove compartment."

"It's not going through," Bozer informed everyone as he hopped into the vehicle. Charlie jumped in the driver's seat, shut the door, turned the ignition and placed the vehicle in drive almost all at once. The tires kicked up a spray of gravel as he headed them for the dirt road that led back to civilization.

Bozer turned around in his seat. "Okay, I'm just going to ask; _what the hell is going on?"_ He was just told to call Matty and tell her that Jack's spidey senses were tingling. He was also told to drop everything and run.

Arm around MacGyver, who was starting to hum nervously, Jack was looking out all of the windows. "Call it a gut feeling, Boze. A bad one."

Swallowing nervously, Bozer nodded. He'd never question Jack's gut. He turned back around in his seat and had just latched his seatbelt when a tree fell from the sky.

~*~M~*~

Jack woke on the floor of the SUV. Before he could react, both back doors were opened and he and MacGyver were dragged out. He cried for his partner even as he hit the ground and blocked the butt of a gun to his face.

He could hear MacGyver's panicked breathing and muffled cries, but could do nothing but exchange blows with the skinny brunette determined to maim him.

"Oh, I knew this was gonna be fun," she smiled with blood dripping from her lips, courtesy of his fist. "Cupcake says I have to let you live, let you _suffer_ , but..." she smiled menacingly, "no promises."

Jack lost his gun when they crashed, but once a soldier, always a soldier; and as he went to a knee to block a blow, he grabbed the knife secured to his ankle and thrust it up into her heart. He was running for his gun before her body hit the ground. "Mac!" His abductor was shoving him into the back of an old, tan bronco, but pulled him back out to use as a shield at Jack's cry.

Jack's grip tightened on his weapon even as terror tore through him. _No._ "Let him go." MacGyver was on the verge of having either a panic attack, or a seizure. Breathing strained and erratic, his blue eyes were wide as his good hand pawed at the arm pressed against his throat. It took everything in Jack not to shoot the bastard right then and there. He wasn't holding a gun, but he was holding a syringe at his partner's neck.

"Sorry, papa bear, I've come to collect."

"Not gonna happen, Murdoc."

"Oh, you say the cutest things. Now, where is my dear partner-in-revenge?"

Murdoc couldn't see her body over the tree they had dropped on them. Jack could only pray Bozer and Charlie were all right. "Let him go and I'll show you."

He snarled and tightened his hold on MacGyver. "I'm doing you a favor, papa bear. I mean, I knew they put a sizable dent in our boy wonder's head here, but, wow," he laughed, "a bag of rocks would be more useful at this point."

Jack felt sick as realization dawned.

" _No_ _one_ is allowed making boy genius here scream like that but me."

"You sick son of bitch."

"Oh, I was going to let him go home after I pulled him from that glorious chamber of torture," Murdoc confided casually, "rebuild that false sense of security. I knew he couldn't do that without you, you see, so I even gave your little Riley a heads up." His face and tone darkened and Jack swore he saw tears in his eyes even as his jaw clenched. "But things changed," he spat out. "And if I can't have my boy," the killer seethed darkly, "you can't have yours."

"You're not leaving here with him," voice hard, Jack stepped closer. He didn't know what the hell Murdoc was talking about, but he did know this absolute truth."Not gonna happen."

"Uh, uh, uh." Murdoc partially opened the hand not holding onto the needle to reveal a small device. He gestured at Jack's chest.

Jack risked a quick look to discover a red laser on him. He cursed and MacGyver mewed.

"Now, we've got to get going, big plans, you see." Murdoc started moving them back over to the bronco and called for someone named Cookie. "Unless you want to look like Swiss cheese, I suggest not moving. Oh, and if you're thinking of shooting dear, ole me, anyway, I'd recommend against it. You see, this delightful mixture here," he indicated the syringe that he still held dangerously close to MacGyver's neck, "it holds the exhilarating description: _Looks like blood. Feels like fire."_

"I _will_ kill you."

Murdoc smiled."Promises, promises. You know, I read it makes him scream the most." He took a delighted breath. "Oh, how I appreciate a well documented torture. And courtesy of Mac Daddy himself? Oh, you guys make it too easy. Honestly."

Clenching his jaw, bile rose to the back of Jack's throat. Tethers strained in his chest. Swallowing the bile down, he struggled to loosen the painful grip he had on his weapon. He struggled to breathe. He didn't have a clear shot and he couldn't risk MacGyver being injected. His heartbeat was frantic, deafening to his own ears. If he could just take Murdoc out without risking MacGyver; even if the remote sniper rifle got him...He took a step forward before Murdoc tsked, waved the needle in warning and tightened his arm around MacGyver's neck.

Something happened then that neither could have expected: MacGyver met Jack's eyes; his blue eyes were full of pain and fear, but also something else:

Acceptance.

_No._

It all happened at once, in one horrific moment before Jack could even protest. A moment that would replay in his nightmares for years to come. MacGyver knocked the trigger device from Murdoc's hand, and Murdoc plunged the needle into MacGyver's neck.

"Mac!" Jack ran as he fired, Murdoc's head jerking backwards as the bullet tore through him. Dropping heavily next to his partner, "Mac?" Jack pulled the needle out of his neck with a grimace. "Nononononono." Half of the contents had been injected.

Forty seven seconds.

"Mac?" Jack rolled him over and pulled him into his lap.

Forty seven seconds.

"Hold on, Mac. Hold on. I got you." He brushed a trembling hand through his hair. "I got you." There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could give him to stop what was about to come.

Panting in terror, MacGyver looked up at him. Tears were streaming from his blue eyes. He was shaking. They were both shaking.

Forty seven seconds.

"I'm here, Mac. I'm not gonna leave you," Jack's voice broke as he fought to keep himself from completely coming undone. "You just–you just hold on, all right." He pulled him closer and pressed his cheek against the top of MacGyver's head. "God, why'd you do that? Huh? You should have gone for the needle," he choked out. "You should have gone for the needle."

MacGyver's misshapen fingers latched onto his shirt, and Jack looked down into his eyes–finding again, something he never expected: gratitude.

Forty seven seconds.

"No, no, no, you don't," He pulled him up and pressed their foreheads together, willing the pain to hit him instead of his friend, his partner, his _boy_. "You're gonna be okay." He said it like he willed it. He said it like a prayer. "You can do this. I'll be right here. I won't let go," he promised. "I won't let go."

Forty seven seconds.

"You, you gotta _fight_ , Mac," he pleaded. "You hold on, and you come back to me, you hear?" Tears were running down Jack's face now, falling and mixing with MacGyver's. "You come back to me, kid. You come back."

When the pain hit, MacGyver screamed, and that something inside of Jack finally broke; tethers snapping. Holding MacGyver as if his own life depended on it, Jack cried and rocked him and choked on words of comfort as MacGyver writhed in his arms, writhed and cried and screamed from unimaginable pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BREATHE!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so, so sorry for the delay. I had every intention of posting this chapter quickly after the last, but alas, life. That said, this is my least favorite chapter, but I feel it's a necessary one. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless! Thank you SO, SO much for your continued support!
> 
> A/N2: Chapter lyrics from "Soft Dark Nothing," by Lily Kershaw.

**CHAPTER SIX**

" _So we break and we bleed and we hurt and we need..."_

She expected him to look bad. When MacGyver hurt, Jack felt it. But what she didn't expect was to find him standing outside of MacGyver's room, looking in with his hand pressed against the glass separating them.

"They made me leave while they…while they got him settled," he explained, his hand making a fist against the glass as if trying to grasp beyond it.

She nodded in understanding and swallowed around the emotions that had been tightening her throat for weeks now. "I'm sure they won't be long." They had just arrived in L.A. off the med transport. It had taken nearly seventy-two hours to stabilize MacGyver in Idaho enough to move him after Murdoc had injected him with more of the vile drug his father had created–and three times the amount MacGyver's tormentors had ever dared to dose him with at one time.

"If he wakes up, if he wakes up and I'm not there—"

His eyes had yet to look away from MacGyver–just out of reach, and hooked up to more hospital equipment than Matty could name. But she knew, as did Jack, that he wouldn't be waking. Not yet, anyway. He was in a coma after suffering from non-stop seizures minutes after being loaded onto exfil.

She stepped closer to her friend, wishing she had more to offer than mostly empty words. "Then he'll see you standing right here, Jack."

He nodded, but she could tell that he was barely holding it together. "That's my boy in there, Matty." He said it as if that single fact alone was what made the sun rise and fall each day. "That's my boy."

A tear slid slow and thick down his cheek and she took his hand in hers. "I know." She barely managed to keep her own voice from breaking. "And he's strong, Jack. Strong as hell. Don't you forget that."

"I don't–I don't know, Matty, you didn't see him."

But she did. She watched as MacGyver became the man that Jack had found: one that never stopped fighting. She didn't expect him to quit now. She wouldn't let herself even consider it. "There may be..." She took a breath, knowing it was a long shot, no matter how deeply she believed, _needed_ to believe it could work. "There may be a something we can try. James, the doctors and our best lab techs have been pouring over every inch of MacGyver's medical data in hopes of creating a counter-agent or treatment to combat the effects of–"

"He's not experimenting on him,"he practically growled. His fist tightened against the glass, but he still hadn't looked away.

"Jack–" She knew if he wasn't hurting so much, he wouldn't even think she'd suggest such a thing. "I want to try something that might _save_ him. And so does James. They think by using a specific drug, among others, that have proven to help reverse the effects of Alzheimer's, that they may be able to restore some of Mac's cognitive function."

Jack's eyes were still on his partner, hand still fisted against the glass. "And what good will that do if he won't even...if he won't even wake up?"

Matty found herself blinking back tears at the anguish in his voice. "It might help with that, too. I've seen the scans, Jack," she reminded solemnly. "So have you." As if things hadn't been bad enough before... To say she reamed WITSEC out for their delay in notifying her of Cassian's tragic death from a vehicle accident would be a gross understatement. Every precious inch the boys had gained with MacGyver had likely been lost, and then some. If he ever even woke...

"I was–I was _right_ there," he took a quaking breath, "but I wasn't fast enough."

"From what I hear, there's nothing you could have done, Jack," she reminded him gently. "MacGyver made his choice," she said with pride, because despite all that he had been through, despite all that he had been stripped of...MacGyver was still MacGyver. She squeezed Jack's hand. "And he chose you."

"And before you go and say that he shouldn't have, that it's _your_ job to protect _him_ :" Matty watched him close his eyes as if in pain, releasing fresh tears. "For weeks, MacGyver had every ounce of control taken from him. His choices were ripped away, Jack," she stressed, her own tears close to falling. "But then _suddenly,_ he could do this _one_ thing; after so long he could make his _own_ choice. And that choice was to save you. Don't diminish it by thinking it was the wrong one."

Gasping back a sob, Jack looked down at her. She could tell that he was barely hanging on by a thread, if that. But clenching his jaw, he nodded. They squeezed their held hands, and Jack turned back to his vigil. Long moments passed before he spoke again. "I'm retiring, Matilda."

"I know," she returned softly. That was her third phone call on the way to Bozer's lab the day she'd learned more than she ever cared to about the drug James had created. "It's already in motion. You just have to sign some papers."

A sound from the end of the hall had them both turning. Out of breath, Riley stood with tears in her eyes. She must have ran the entire way from the parking garage. Jack gave her a sad, crooked smile and opened his arms for her.

She ran right into them. "I'm sorry," she cried into his shoulder.

"Ri, we've been over this," he whispered into her ear. "That sick bastard is the only one to blame."

"But if I had caught the bug sooner, he never would have found you, found Mac." When Murdoc had triggered Riley's search program, he also installed a bug; which was how he had found them.

"And if you hadn't caught it when you did, Mac might be dead." Phoenix agents had arrived when Jack was attempting to breathe life back into him. They tried to call and warn them, but Murdoc had been using a signal blocker.

Riley took a shaky breath, and he knew she was far from convinced. But he meant what he had said, despite all of the other emotions running through him. It was nothing short of a miracle that she found something she didn't even know she should be looking for.

"Are you okay?" she asked as her tears soaked his collar.

"I'm fine, sweetheart."

"Mac?"

She partially turned out of his arms to look into the room.

Matty knew before he even answered that he'd protect her from his doubt, from his fear. "He's gonna be just fine," he answered thickly. "You'll see. Our boy is a fighter."

Then looking down at Matty, he nodded his consent to try the drugs.

~*~M~*~

She found Bozer and Charlie pacing the hall just a few rooms down from their friend's.

"We allowed back in yet?" Bozer had a swollen eye, bruised face and a dislocated shoulder. Charlie didn't look much better. They were lucky to be alive. Bozer had started for the room before she even answered. She reached out to stop him. "How are you holding up, Boze?"

"You want the truth, or that "I'm fine" B.S. Mac used to throw at us?"

"The truth would be nice," she answered, not unkindly.

"Not good." His shoulders fell. "He's gonna be all right, though." His shoulders immediately straightened again as if daring her to say otherwise. "He'll wake up and we'll get him all the help he needs and he'll...he'll..." But his words got lost in all the thoughts and emotions he was trying so hard to push away.

"He started to come back to us before," Charlie reminded them, handing Bozer MacGyver's dinosaur. "He'll do it again."

He nodded as he regarded the stuffed animal, but Matty saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "You know, I really can't imagine my life without Mac," he admitted nervously. "It seems like he's always been there getting me into and out of trouble, ever since well...forever."

"Boze—"

"He _is_ gonna be okay, right, Matty?"

She looked him in his tear-filled eyes and made a promise she had no ability to keep. "Yes."

~*~M~*~

She stood in the hallway and watched as MacGyver continued to fight for his life. The swish and hiss of the ventilator seemed loud even from where she stood, but no one seemed bothered by it; least of all MacGyver. He'd been receiving the treatment for three days now, but it was still too soon to tell if it was having any positive affect. The doctors continued to warn of permanent brain damage, of the unlikely chance of him recovering, but the team's hope held fast. It was the only thing they had left to hold onto.

Matty thought about all of the promises she had made to her team, to herself, to God. "Don't go turnin' me into a liar, blondie."

James came by daily, but always stood out in the hallway; looking in through the glass partition like Matty was now. He feared his presence would prove to be upsetting to his son–even while unconscious. For his part, Jack gritted his teeth and stayed seated next to MacGyver, but she couldn't say what he'd do if James ever decided to get closer.

Walking up next to her, Charlie took in the same scene that she was: Jack, Bozer and Riley all asleep in uncomfortable chairs that surrounded MacGyver. _The Hobbit_ lay on the floor where Bozer had dropped it when he fell asleep. A large paper clip chain was pooled around Jack's feet, and Riley looked moments from falling out of her chair.

"I'm being called back to headquarters."

She looked over at him. He looked as exhausted as everyone else–especially with the bruises marring his face. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done."

"I wish it were enough."

There was a weighted moment of silence between them. It was full of everything neither could bring themselves to say.

"He's going to be just fine, Charlie." Matty knew he would be able to detect her doubt, but just as she had been doing, he told her what she needed to hear.

"I know."

~*~M~*~

It was the Fourth of July.

Thirteen days had passed since Murdoc had tried to abduct MacGyver. Thirteen days had passed since he had nearly killed him. At his side; as he always had been and always would be, Jack turned towards the window at the muted call of fireworks. It was a surreal reminder that though one's own world could come to a crashing halt, the rest of the world would happily carry on without you; celebrating, laughing, rejoicing.

"I didn't even realize it was July," Bozer admitted wearily. Sitting in a chair on the other side of MacGyver, he was holding Sir Alexander Bones. He took it to keep it safe when the nurses had kicked him out to change his best friend's bedding. He no longer had bandages to change; his flesh wounds had healed up over the past two weeks. They were still waiting for the rest of him to do the same.

"Yeah, me neither. " Jack couldn't even say what day of the week it was. The only thing he knew, the only thing he cared about was that MacGyver still hadn't woken up. And they kept warning him that he might never.

Rubbing his hands over his thighs, Jack tried to dislodge the thought, the possibility from his mind...but as the weeks passed it was getting harder. He felt like he was unraveling, coming apart, and had been since that something snap inside of him; since he held his boy as he...

Fist clenching, Jack was about to stand and start pacing again when Bozer suddenly poked Sir Alexander Bones in the stomach. Frowning, he then did it again. Furrowing his brow, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. Not for the first time, it felt like the room was getting smaller. "It's not a _Tickle Me Dino_ , Boze."

Surprised brown eyes shot over to Jack's.

"What?"

Bozer turned the dinosaur over. "I forgot this thing had a pouch."

Jack leaned forward in his chair and washed his hands down his face. "Yeah, me too. So?" He didn't see the significance of Bozer's discovery.

Unzipping it, Bozer looked back up at Jack. "Well, _we_ might have forgotten, but I know someone who didn't."

Jack shook his head, unsure what he meant.

Until Bozer pulled his phone out of Sir Alexander Bones.

~*~M~*~

As he did every day since they'd been back in L.A., Jack gently stretched and repositioned MacGyver's arms and legs as instructed by the nurses. He did it when it was just the two of them, and it had turned into a ritual. He saw every stretch, every knead of the muscles as an exercise in bringing his boy back to him.

"Hey, you remember that time you took a bite out of that California Reaper Pepper and couldn't see for two days?" he asked with a small, albeit sad smile as he gently stretched his partner's wrist and massaged his palm. "Not one of your brightest moments, bud. But hey, you got through with a little help from dear ole' me, of course. And I only let you wear your shirt inside-out once." But his teasing tone wasn't what it used to be; that happened when you watched someone you loved, someone whom you swore to protect lying in a coma for weeks.

Though Jack didn't know if MacGyver would remember the Reaper Pepper incident when he woke, he did know without a doubt that him taking his phone wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. Which meant that MacGyver undoubtedly remembered Jack, remembered more than just his name. At least he did.

_/ "You think that's why he tried giving us this thing?" Bozer asked. "But was he trying to tell us that he remembered you, or all of us? Or was he just trying to make us feel better?"_

_Jack's throat was too tight to respond as he held the phone he thought he had lost weeks ago._

" _Either way, I bet that's why he was so protective of it," Bozer mused, both warmth and sadness filling him. "It held a memory. A good one." /_

It was hard to believe the years that had passed since Jack first met his skinny, little phone-stealing bomb nerd; who had become such a huge piece of his life, his heart. It was hard to believe that this was where they had ended up. They've had a lot of close calls over the years, but nothing...nothing like this.

And what if this was all there was for MacGyver? Lying in a hospital bed day in and day out on a ventilator. MacGyver wouldn't want this. Jack knew he wouldn't want this.

"I know you're tired, buddy," he whispered thickly, tears choking him up as he struggled between what he _should_ say, and what he _needed_ to say. "I know you're hurtin'." He should give him permission to let go. Be at peace. "And I know you're scared, I know ya are." Jack rubbed his thumb over the back of his partner's hand as he held it, knowing exactly just how selfish he was being. "And I–I know I let you down." He let someone hurt him again. He broke his vow. "But I..." His face contorted with the painful truth, and it took him a moment to compose himself enough to continue. "I'm lost here without you, brother." He brushed a knuckle across the tears freely rolling down his face. "I'm a mess." He barely managed a self-conscious smile.

"And, uh...I know it's a lot to ask, but I–I'd really love for you to come back to me, kid." Another tear slid free. "You don't, you don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of you." He squeezed the slighter hand, willing his words to reach MacGyver wherever he was. Willing MacGyver to reach back. "I'm gonna take care of you. Just come back to me, all right?" he begged. "Just come back."

~*~M~*~

Absently mangling a paperclip in his hands, Jack stared off into his thoughts as Bozer sewed a top hat onto Sir Alexander Bones. Time seemed to have little meaning; it all just passed in a blur. Jack had officially retired and moved all of his stuff into MacGyver's garage, but all of his time was spent at the hospital.

An entire week had passed since MacGyver had opened his eyes with little improvement or change beyond being off of the ventilator now. As he did every few minutes, Jack glanced over at him. Eyes closed, he almost looked peaceful. Was this the best they could hope for after everything he's been through? Should they be grateful instead of whatever this was that Jack was feeling?

When he had first open his eyes–seventeen days after Murdoc nearly killed him, their relief quickly turned back into crushing despair. MacGyver's eyes wouldn't focus on anything. They were open, but they weren't seeing. He didn't respond to stimuli, or to Jack's pleas. It was like he was still in a coma, but occasionally his eyes would open. The doctors said his brain was essentially rebooting and he might just need some time–but as usual, they couldn't say how much.

Exhaling, Jack's hands shook–they always shook anymore, as he continued to twist the paperclip. He could never mold them into little pieces of art like MacGyver. He didn't have the patience, skills or the dexterity that MacGyver's slim fingers...had. The paperclip broke and Jack felt like he'd been sucker punched. He realized then that his vision was blurry and his breathing was faster than it should be.

And Bozer was watching him with concern...and understanding. "Why don't you go get some fresh air, Jack. I'll stay with him."

It wasn't the first time one of his teammates had made such a suggestion. Matty had even given him the card for the department shrink. But all Jack needed was for MacGyver to be okay. Then _he'd_ be okay. In the meantime, "Yeah," he rasped thickly. "Yeah, maybe..." He cleared his throat. "You come get me if he–"

"–so much as blinks," Bozer finished by rote.

Standing, Jack looked over at MacGyver expecting to see either his eyes closed, or them looking dully at nothing like usual. What he didn't expect was to find them looking back.

"Mac?" Knees giving out, Jack practically fell onto the side of his bed. MacGyver was _studying_ him like he had in the hospital in Idaho. "Mac?" Feeling his heart skip a beat, Jack took his hand in his. "You with me, bud? It's–It's Jack." But he couldn't pretend that word would offer him comfort as it did before, not after he let Murdoc get his hands on him.

Bozer stood, but kept his distance, remembering how MacGyver had responded to him at first the last time.

Fear crept into blue eyes as MacGyver's breathing sped up. "Hey, hey, hey," Jack soothed, rubbing his arm. "It's all right. You're all right. You're safe now, hoss. You're safe." He tried to smile reassuringly through the tears filling his eyes. "You think...you think you could give me a sign that you're in there, brother?"

But MacGyver's eyes had already started to shift back to a place where Jack couldn't reach him.

"Hey, come on now, hoss," Jack cajoled, desperate; voice and hope wavering, "I know you're in there. Don't–" He swallowed hard. "Don't go hidin' back in that head of yours," he begged. "Stay with me. Show me you're with me, kid."

MacGyver merely blinked.

But then after a long moment, as they continued to hold their breath, his eyes started to roam around the room until eventually, they landed on Bozer. They watched as he then slid his arm off of his stomach and reached his fingers out towards...Sir Alexander Bones.

Eyes wide, Bozer and Jack shared a look before Bozer quickly, but gently slid the dinosaur under MacGyver's hand. Looking like it took all of the strength he had, MacGyver dragged the dinosaur across his lap. Then with a shaking arm, he lifted it...and pressed it against his Overwatch's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, the comfort to come! Thank you so much for hanging in there with me!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your kind words and support. I hope the final chapter doesn't disappoint. Chapter lyrics from "Home," by Phillip Phillips. Might I suggest listening to it after you finish the chapter? :)

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

" _Hold on, to me as we go_

_As we roll down this unfamiliar road."_

"Come on, bud, one more."

Giving Jack an unsure look, MacGyver did as he was asked with some effort.

/ _"Significant weakness in his right side."_ /

"Great job, hoss, that's one more than yesterday." Jack took MacGyver's foot from where he was pressing it against his hand, and gently lowered it onto the mat before moving to kneel at his side.

_/ "He may never talk, or walk unassisted again." /_

The doctors' words echoed through Jack's head everyday, but he wouldn't let them scare or intimidate him. This was MacGyver they were talking about, his wunderkind. The kid that has never ceased to amaze him, and of all the things that have changed, he knew that never would.

 _/"Essentially looking at a traumatic brain injury."_ /

Plus, as Jack has always said; as long as MacGyver was alive, they'd figure out the rest. Still, it was hard watching him go through...everything. He had this vulnerability about him that made Jack, and just about everyone around him want to wrap him up in their arms and never let go.

"All right, bud, now the arm." The physical therapist had reviewed the exercises with Jack and was standing just a few feet away, observing. MacGyver had yet to tolerate him being closer. Today, like most days, they were working on regaining his mobility and strength–especially on his right side.

"Good, give me another." Jack had his hand raised, so that MacGyver had to lift his arm up from the mat and touch his.

He still wouldn't talk, not even through is nightmares now ; which he continued to suffer from. He had trouble retaining new memories, and from what they could tell–just from his reactions to things and people, his long term memories definitely had some big, gaping holes.

The doctors said he'd need significant support likely for the rest of his life. And he would have it. Jack had made his promise–and in fact, had made it years ago. He's always taken his Wookie Life Debt seriously, and always would.

"Way to go, bud," he praised when MacGyver's fingertips brushed his for a third time. "You're getting stronger every day."

Exhaling, MacGyver dropped his arm back onto the mat and rewarded Jack with an exhausted smile.

~*~M~*~

Sitting on the bed with MacGyver's head on her shoulder, Riley played poker with Matty. She was still getting used to how tactile MacGyver had become, but was soaking up every minute of it. It had taken her and Matty over a week to completely earn his trust, to be offered the coveted dinosaur. It had only taken Charlie a day after he returned to visit.

Unfortunately, they couldn't be absolutely sure if MacGyver actually remembered them, or if he was just comfortable with them now. But Riley had a feeling that he remembered them. At least to some degree. "What do you think, Mac?"she asked, showing him her cards. "Should we fold?" MacGyver was watching them with mild interest from her shoulder, Sir Alexander Bones tucked under his arm.

"Don't you help her, blondie. Those Goldfish are mine," Matty teased with a wink.

Face turned slightly into Riley's shoulder, he regarded Matty with a shy, dimpled grin.

Tears stinging her eyes, Matty smiled back. She wished she could do something, _anything_ to change things back to the way they were. But she couldn't. She could only make sure that those responsible would remain locked away in the deepest, darkest holes she could find. She also had what was left of James' drug; what the government had labeled RX48-666, and what Volkov had referred to as _Blood Fire_ destroyed.

Unfortunately, it was nearly twenty years too late.

"Matty?"

As she did nearly every day, she couldn't help but to take in every visible scar on her agent; scars that she had witnessed being born. She had watched on the videos as they had cut into him trying to gauge his blood loss after injecting him with various drugs. She had watched them burn his flesh and break his bones so they could measure his pain response. She had watched them drill into his leg without so much as a local anesthetic. She had watched them experiment on him for "science" and torture him for laughs and money.

" _Matty."_

"Hmm?"

"You're doing it again."

That got her attention and blinking away the images, she turned to Riley. "Doing what?"

"Scaring me," the hacker admitted softly. "You get this...this horrible look on your face when lookin' at him sometimes, and even though you won't tell me about it, I know what you're really seeing, and I–"

Matty leaned over and took her hand. "I'm sorry."

Squeezing it, Riley closed her eyes with a sigh. "No, I'm sorry, I just–"

"No, you're right. I need to try and stay more focused on the present."

They were both surprised to feel MacGyver's hand slide over theirs'. He looked up at them with concern in his blue eyes.

Overall, his receptive skills were pretty good, but sometimes he had trouble grasping what was going on.

"We're okay, Mac," Matty assured him as Riley hugged him closer.

"Yeah, the only thing you need to worry about is my poker hand," Riley joked, then looked back to Matty. "I guess some things...they just don't change." Despite everything, he still looked after his friends.

"No," Matty smiled dotingly at MacGyver, "no, they do not."

"All right, I'm officially banning anymore of these death traps." Bozer came into the room wrestling a bouquet of large helium balloons.

"Probably a good idea," Matty agreed, keeping her hand where it was; sandwiched between Riley's and MacGyver's.

Bozer dramatically dislodged one that had wrapped around his body, and Riley shook her head. "Double O Boze," she teased, "spy by day, balloon wrangler by night."

Bozer shot her a 'har har' look before addressing MacGyver. "She cheats, right? I always knew it."

MacGyver merely raised his eyebrows tiredly from where his head still rested on Riley's shoulder, not giving anything away.

"In your dreams, Bozer. You just suck."

He glared at her, but stopped the playful exchange for MacGyver's benefit. "This isn't over yet, _Ms. Davis_."

She brought up a mocking, shaking hand.

He gave her another sparring look before changing the subject. "Any luck with the Goldfish?"

Matty shook her head. They were hoping he'd start helping himself to the crackers they were using as their pot, but no such luck yet. "How'd you get him to take the broth?" MacGyver's difficulty with eating didn't seem to be a trust issue this time, as much as it was a total and complete lack of appetite.

Bozer pursed his lips and averted his eyes.

"Yeah, you just mumbled something about owing Jack's grandpa a new saddle."

The film maker-turn spy was finding the balloons suddenly very interesting. Matty and Riley shared a look and were about to make him spill, when MacGyver shook his head and pulled his hand away to scratch at Riley's wrist.

Matty frowned. "What's he doing?"

"I think...I think he's asking for Jack," she told her, slightly stunned.

"How do you know?"

"He's always playing with Jack's leather wristband," Bozer answered, "especially when he's anxious."

"Why would he–?"

When MacGyver turned his face into Riley's shoulder and whimpered, they realized what was happening.

"I'll get Jack." Bozer was already halfway to the door, heading for the showers.

"I'll, uh...wing it." Riley looked to Matty, more than a little terrified at the thought of trying to stop the panic that was about to occur, stop it before it triggered a seizure.

Movements agitated, breaths picking up, MacGyver grabbed a fistful of hair with his broken fingers.

"Mac?" Riley took his good hand in hers as Matty moved closer and placed a hand over his knee. "Mac, I need you to listen to the sound of my voice, all right? You're safe and Jack's on the way, okay?"

"You're home, Mac," Matty stressed.

"You're not–" Riley's throat and heart constricted like it did every time she thought of him in that place. "You're not there."

But mewling softly, MacGyver continued to push his face into her shoulder and scratch at her wrist. This happened every time his body needed rest, every time he started to drift off. He became disoriented; lost somewhere between the hell he had endured and the now. There was only one person who could reach him then, but–

"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," Jack rushed into the room, looking like he had barely dried off, Bozer right behind him. MacGyver looked up at him from Riley's shoulder; despair dark in his eyes. He pleaded with Jack with those eyes, pleaded for him to make sense of the world.

Gently sliding onto the bed, Jack smiled, tender and calm as he cupped the side of MacGyver's face. "Hey now, bubba."He brushed his thumb across his cheek. "You're safe. You're home and we're all okay here, hoss."

But making a heartbreaking sound that cut them all to the quick, MacGyver reached up and traced a spot on the right side of Jack's forehead with trembling fingers.

His smile now sad, Jack let MacGyver's fingers search for what wasn't there. "There's not a scratch on me, bud. It wasn't real." This wasn't the first time MacGyver had traced a random spot on one of them with grief in his eyes. It was Matty that had realized he was tracing the fatal wounds from the doctored photos he was shown in the mine. The photos he was shown to try and convince him that they were all dead.

Still looking uncertain, MacGyver struggled to sit up so he could curl into Jack's arms.

Wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in close, Jack carded his fingers through is hair. "There you go, homie, you know the drill."

Ear pressed against Jack's chest, little by little, MacGyver's body relaxed into his Overwatch's arms as he listened.

Moving away from the bed, Riley reached for Bozer and Matty's hands. It was still an adjustment seeing their super hero friend so scared and confused all of the time, but MacGyver was still a super hero to them, and the bravest man they knew. He always would be. The battles he fought now just mostly came from the inside.

"Focus on it, Mac. Focus on the beats."

The hand MacGyver had fisted in his hair started to give. It made its way onto Jack's chest where the tips of his fingers began to lightly tap the rhythm of his heart out. He hummed a relieved sigh.

Tears never failed to blur Jack's vision at this point. It was hard to believe that something so broken could provide such comfort. "That a boy." He kissed the top of his head. The doctors continued to caution about permanent brain damage, but as always, Jack would take his boy any way he could get him.

MacGyver tapped until his breathing slowed. He tapped until his body relaxed completely. He tapped until he fell asleep in Jack's arms.

~*~M~*~

"Now's not a good time." Jack stopped and placed his hands on his hips when he ran into James in the hallway just outside of MacGyver's room. "He's awake and Riley and Bozer are workin' on gettin' food into him." And they only had about fifteen minutes to do so before he started to fall asleep again. He had physical therapy this morning and it always wiped him out for the day.

"How is he?" James was still keeping his distance, afraid his presence would prove too upsetting for his son. Until now, he had even been avoiding Jack.

Jack's fingers dug into his sides. He gave him a hard look. "He's hurtin' and scared," he told him bluntly. "All the time. He gets confused; doesn't understand what's happening." Mac, who used to understand everything, never miss anything.

"I wish..." James' anguish was evident, but Jack didn't care. "I wish there was something more that I could do."

"I think you've done enough, don't you?" Jack moved to walk passed him.

"I never–you have to know I–"

"Tell me," Jack turned back to him, "where would you be if Mac wasn't in there because of something you created? Hmm? Would you be here if Mac hadn't found you?" He tried to keep his voice low so MacGyver wouldn't hear. "Where the hell were you after Cairo? Huh? Or when your son got Dengue fever, or had his appendix taken out? Where were you through the broken bones and broken hearts and every other time he ended up in the hospital after saving the world?"

James had the nerve to look contrite.

"I didn't see you hovering in the hallways then. You weren't there, but guess what, **I was**. And I watched as–" Words and truth choking him up, Jack pointed towards MacGyver's room, "I watched as _every damn time_ my boy in there dragged himself back up and went out to fight another day, save another life. Sometimes, in fact, usually long before he was ready."

"Dalton–" James' voice was sounding rough, sounding as wrung out as Jack felt. _Good._

"Unlike you," he continued, "he puts _other_ s before himself, before his own needs." The tears that were blurring Jack's vision were tears of pride, but they were also tears for everything his partner had been through, and had yet to go through. "And no matter how much he–he _hurts_ , and no matter how scared he is, he always, _always_ keeps fightin.' That kid in there has more courage and integrity in his broken little pinky finger than you have in your entire body."

There were tears in James' eyes too, and it took him more than a moment to get the words passed his shame. "You're right."

Jack clenched his jaw, somewhat annoyed that he so easily agreed. "He _needed_ you."

"No." James gave him a meaningful look. "No, he didn't. I made sure of that."

Jack had to swallow down the lump of emotions that suddenly grew too large in his throat. "Yeah, well he _wanted_ you, and that should have been enough to get you to come out of the shadows." This time when Jack walked away, James didn't try to stop him.

~*~M~*~

"Dude, black or white?" Jack was practically vibrating as he held up two t-shirts. "Personally, I think you look better in white, and I look better in black. Ying, Yang and all that."

Sitting up in bed with a spoon in his left hand and pudding and Goldfish on his tray, MacGyver furrowed his brow. It had been nearly two months since he woke from his coma, and they were finally allowing him to go home and continue rehab as an outpatient.

Jack moved closer and held them up again. He was so excited to be getting him home, he could barely contain himself. "Okay, how about you point." He learned that he had to give him a few extra moments to respond...if he did at all, and waited patiently for him to decide.

Progress continued, although slowly. The treatment that James and the rest of the geek squad had created was being given credit, but no one knew how much more improvement could be expected, or how much irreversible damage had been done. His many, many scars, at least were starting to look a little less angry.

MacGyver finally reached out with a wavering left hand and brushed his spoon against the bottom of the white shirt. His right hand was wrapped thickly after recent surgery in an attempt to repair the broken digits.

"Good choice, my man. You never know who you'll run into on the way to the car. Wanna look your best."

MacGyver went back to trying to eat his homemade pudding–courtesy of Bozer. It took awhile, but he finally got a handle on how to use a spoon again–and with his non-dominant hand. With the same level of concentration Jack has seen him use to diffuse a bomb, he shoveled another spoonful of pudding into his mouth. It took a lot of concentration on his part, and a lot more encouragement. His appetite was still practically non-existent; which Bozer took personally.

They had converted the garage into a space for Jack, though he figured he'd be spending most of his time in MacGyver's room. He still panicked when falling asleep if he didn't feel someone next to him, if he couldn't hear their heartbeat. They were at least able to take turns lying with him now while he slept during the day. Jack got the night shift. He was beyond happy that he wasn't going to have to squeeze onto a little bed anymore.

"Hey, Mac, you remember where we're going today?" He tossed the shirt and some extra soft jogging pants onto the bed.

Oblivious to Jack's question, MacGyver's eyes were fixed on the spoon he held.

Used to him spacing out, "Earth to Mac," Jack prompted gently, lightly running his knuckle up the bottom of his partner's foot.

MacGyver's foot twitched and blinking, he looked up at him.

"You remember where we're goin' today, bud?"

Gaze turning contemplative, still holding the spoon, MacGyver lightly fisted his hand and tapped it against his lower jaw. _Home_. Then he made the sign for _yes._

Jack smiled. "Good."

His speech therapist was teaching him–all of them, sign language while his psychologist and doctors worked on why he didn't speak. Trauma, brain abnormalities, blah, blah, blah... Jack figured he would speak when he was good and ready. He was just happy that he was communicating.

He seemed to be creating some of his own sign language out of what he was being taught, but Jack could understand him just the same. He found comfort in that. It brought a sense of normalcy. It brought its own sense of home.

~*~M~*~

"Bozer, calm down," Riley warned. "You're making me nervous. And if you're making _me_ nervous, you're gonna freak Mac out."

Still bouncing on the balls of his feet, Bozer shook out his hands. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I just want everything to be perfect." It felt like forever since his best friend had been home. He tasted the soup cooking on the stove again before going back to his best friend's room and fluffing his pillows.

Shaking her head, Riley went back to ordering a medical alert necklace for MacGyver, but she couldn't ignore the butterflies in her own stomach. MacGyver coming home; home _, home_ put them one step closer to getting back to normal, but was also a stark reminder that "normal" wasn't what it used to be–that their old normal was gone, and endings...they were hard.

Sometimes, so were beginnings.

Bozer buzzed back into the kitchen with a hammer and a step stool. "I wish we could have a _real_ party for him. Everyone keeps asking about him. They'd love to see him," he said, climbing the step stool to reach the very large, " _Welcome Home, Mac!"_ banner he had made.

"Yeah, but you know how easily he gets overwhelmed and overstimulated."

"Yeah, I know, I'm the one that bought him the noise cancelling headphones. I just wish we could show him how much he's loved."

Riley smiled sagely and reached out to squeeze his hand. "What do you call four gallons of chicken noodle soup, support railings throughout the house, a ramp to the deck, fluffed pillows and a _Welcome Home_ sign that can be seen from space?"

Shoulders relaxing some, Bozer grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Stepping off the stool, he admired his work. "That's better."

"You've fixed that sign three times, Bozer. And it was perfectly fine the first time."

"I just want everything to be perfect." He spun around when he heard the door open, but his posture deflated when he saw that it was just Matty.

"Way to make a gal feel welcome there, Boze," she teased at his frown as she walked in. She placed a bag on the island counter next to Riley's laptop. "Jill sent some cookies. They're supposed to be easy on the stomach and packed full of...I dunno, healthy stuff."

Bozer furrowed his brow. "I hope he remembers her." They had been keeping visitors limited to just the team. They even tried to keep the same nursing staff for him as much as possible. When a familiar nurse had off for a couple of days, MacGyver had to be reintroduced to them and get comfortable having them around again. Fearing the same would happen with any one of the team, they had made it a point to never be away for more than a day...but as Matty, Bozer and Riley needed to take on more assignments, the fear of him forgetting one of them grew.

"Peter Ulrich was found dead in his cell this morning," Matty announced unexpectedly.

"Wow," Bozer's eyebrows shot up at the bombshell. "Though I can't say that I'm sorry to hear that."

"Ditto. I still can't believe the brother of the guy who killed Mac's mom, and the guy Mac pissed off years ago ended up in the same prison together. What are the odds?"

Matty sighed. "Apparently, too high." And both Ulrich and Volkov were very, _very_ angry at the MacGyver's. Ulrich for what happened to his brother after the CIA injected him with James' drug, and Volkov for MacGyver destroying his entire international bad guy operation and sending him off to prison.

A heavy silence fell over the group as they got lost in all that had happened, in all of the pain that had been inflicted in the name of revenge. Matty was the first to snap out of it and recognize the solemn atmosphere. "Hey, he's safe now, guys," she reminded gently.

Taking a breath, Riley nodded. "You're right. We need to stay focused on Mac's recovery." Staying in the present was still a constant battle they all shared.

"Yeah, it's just...hard. And the Phoenix won't be the same without them." Bozer walked over to the fridge and pulled everyone out a beer.

"No, no it won't," Matty agreed somberly, accepting her drink from him. "But we're all still here, still together." She looked them both in the eyes. "And _together_ , like always, is how we'll get through."

"Damn straight."

"I'll toast to that." Riley lifted her beer. "To Mac."

"To _family_ ," Matty added, warmth and love bright in her eyes. Their bottles clinked together and after taking a drink, Matty looked up and tilted her head to the side. "Sign's crooked."

~*~M~*~

Pulling onto MacGyver's road, Jack was caught off guard by the wave of emotions that suddenly washed over him. How many times during the weeks of searching did he make this drive, heart and passenger seat empty, wondering if he'd ever see his brother again? Gripping the steering wheel, he glanced over at his charge. It was hard not to think about how so much had changed since that day a determined MacGyver had walked out of the Phoenix. It felt like a lifetime ago. But he was alive, he reminded himself. And finally, _finally_ he was taking him home.

Sir Alexander Bones in his lap, MacGyver ran his fingers back and forth over the zipper that kept his memories in place. He had been adding to it. It helped him to remember things; like his penchant for stealing Jack's phone. There was a picture of the entire team in there as well, among other things.

Pulling up the driveway and placing the car in park, he studied MacGyver's face; looking for signs of recognition. Unlike the paperclip crown Jack had hung from the rearview mirror, MacGyver appeared to recognize home and was already reaching for the door handle.

Smiling, Jack bolted out of his side of the car and around to his partner's. "Take it easy, wait for me." MacGyver was already trying to stand when Jack made it to his door. His hip, as expected, gave out, but Jack caught him. Grunting, MacGyver leaned heavily on him, eyes fixed on the house.

"You're home, bud." Emotions that were still heavy in Jack's heart could easily be heard in his voice. "Bozer, Matty and Ri are just inside. They're eager to see ya."

MacGyver eyes were still locked on the house. "Mac?"It had been a long, _long_ road home for him, and Jack suspected that there were parts of him that would never make it home, that would remain lost in that hole forever. It was impossible not to come out a different person after what he'd been through.

But with the pieces that did make it back, MacGyver could and would be whole again. His family would see to that. They'd fill those empty spaces with love and MacGyver would seal them in place with that inherent determination he still carried.

"Bud, you all right? We don't have to go in yet if you're not ready. We can get back in the car and–"

Tears in his eyes, breaths shaky, MacGyver shook his head.

Jack brushed a hand through his long blond strands. He still had one arm wrapped around him, holding him up. "Talk to me, kid."

Gaze dropping, MacGyver's brow pinched as he searched for the word he wanted to express. Finally, he brushed his palm upward against his chest twice.

Warm tears immediately filled Jack's eyes, and for the first time since MacGyver had disappeared, his heart felt a little less broken. "Yeah, kiddo, me too," he returned thickly, squeezing his shoulder. "Me too."

_Happy._

~*~EPILOGUE~*~

Heart pounding, Jack bent over his knees as he wheezed. He hadn't felt this good in months. "Okay," he panted, "you get the next hill."

Grinning, MacGyver got a look on his face that let Jack know that he was trying to think of a word. Finally, he made the sign for " _old man_."

Jack gaped. "Old, my ass!" he rebutted. "I think I just beat my personal best." He lowered himself onto the ground next to his partner. "Mind handing me that water?" Pulling the bottom of his shirt up, he wiped it over his sweaty brow.

MacGyver looked down at the bottle in his lap, then went to grab it–

"Right hand, bubba." He waited patiently as it was another moment before MacGyver grappled for it with his right hand. He continued to have strength and dexterity issues with it and was encouraged to use it as much as possible. But he struggled to, especially after getting used to using his left hand while his right was healing after surgery.

"Thanks, bud." Taking it, Jack sprayed some of the water over his face first before downing half of the contents.

MacGyver looked out on the magnificent view before them. They came out nearly every morning and personally, it was Jack's favorite part of the day. Desperate to stretch his legs and get MacGyver out of the house and some semblance of normalcy, he had gotten a customized three-wheel running chair that he could push MacGyver in while he ran. The ache that Jack had still been carrying in his heart had started to loosen some, and MacGyver had started to smile more.

He still had bad days and really bad days, along with the good.

On his good days, he was inquisitive, ate with encouragement, and openly communicated in his own way. He rarely had seizures.

On the bad days, he was distant and lost in thought a lot. He often got headaches on the bad days, struggled to communicate and eat. Sometimes he had seizures.

On the really bad days, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't communicate. Anxious and scared, he'd tuck himself into the smallest corner he could find if he wasn't glued to Jack's side. He often had seizures.

Today was a good day. A really good day. It was a rare treat for MacGyver to joke with him.

Wearing sunglasses for his overly sensitive eyes, MacGyver squinted up into the blue sky. There was a peaceful look on his face that placed a lump in Jack's throat. His boy loved being outside in the sun. And despite being lathered in sunscreen every time he stepped out of the house, his complexion was losing that pallid look and he was starting to get a nice golden tan. Jack continued to have trouble really processing all that he had been through; every painful, terrifying moment that had brought him, finally, to this peaceful one.

MacGyver still clung to Bones and Jack when he slept, and most of the day on his bad days, but otherwise...he had found something else to hold onto. Hand releasing it, he grunted and pointed at a red-tailed hawk drifting on the breeze.

The doctors and specialists still cautioned them on the uncertainty of MacGyver's recovery, but Jack tried to stay focused on the positives, and on all of the progress he had made over the past few months. How he was learning sign language. How he could walk five steps on his own now.

How he had said Jack's name this morning.

Jack had automatically responded to the raspy whisper with, "Yeah, bud?" until it had hit him: MacGyver had spoken. Deliberately. It was just one word, but Jack had never loved the sound of his name so much. With tears in his eyes, he had handed him what he was pointing at, asking for. Then overcome with...so many emotions, Jack fell to his knees and cried into his lap.

MacGyver didn't seem to understand his tears, but just as Jack had done so many times to comfort him, he carded his fingers through Jack's hair until he could pull himself together.

Jack didn't know what he did to deserve this kid, but unlike MacGyver's own father; he never, _never_ intended to let him go.

MacGyver still had a content look on his face as he watched the bird carve its way through the sky. Turning his gaze outward, Jack couldn't help but to see a phoenix in its place as it twirled ever higher into the blue, rising up from the ashes, from broken things, to soar strong and whole once again.

Just like his boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited to announce that this will not be the only story in this universe! Keep a look out for the multi-chapter sequel, "Light Fall."
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading!


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